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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


■i-Tr. 


Chap...^_„. Copyright No. 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS 



M. HAMILTON 



[ UtL 12 * 


NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1897 






Copyright, 1896, 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 


MCLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


BOOK L 

CHAPTER I. 

Mes. Stoddaet, I am looking for my stable compan- 
ion. I suppose you haven’t happened to see a tall man any- 
where about the deck, with red hair and a swagger? ” . 

Well, the place is strewn with reviving invalids. Pos- 
sibly he forms a nucleus for some of those rugs and shawls. 
But there’s no distinguishing one bundle from another.” 

I’ve searched several, and got myself disliked. I don’t 
know where he can have got to. It’s his first appearance 
since we left the Thames, and I feel rather responsible. 
He’s had nothing but hard biscuits and whisky for two 
days, and he owes me half-a-crown for the sweep.” 

Mr. Grant had his anxiety under control; he gave a 
final glance round, and then drew up a long chair beside 
Mrs. Stoddart. 

All the passengers of the P. and 0. Australia, except the 
invalids who were not up to date, had been confidently 
waiting for this climax, and one or two officers near the 
smoking room who knew Mr. Grant personally had had a 
bet on the number of times he would think it necessary to 
saunter past Mrs. Stoddart’s chair before he stopped there. 

Everybody knew that Mrs. Stoddart was going out to 
Malta to join her husband, after being separated from him 
for three years, though it was impossible to say from whom 
the information had originally come. It had grown to be 
known in the occult way everybody’s private concerns do 
grow to be known on board ship. And Mr. Grant’s atten- 
tions had not escaped criticism. 

A scrap of scandal was a godsend to a set of idle and 


2 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


bored people who had found two rough days at the begin- 
ning of the voyage pass very slowly. 

‘^It’s rather dull, isn’t it?” Christina Stoddart said; 
everybody is looking suspiciously at everybody else, now 
that it is calm enough to think about grandfathers. And 
even the people who have not been ill have no energy. That 
pretty girl with the blue cloak asked me to play buckets 
just now, but neither she nor the men who played with us 
got one ring in six into the bucket, and they didn’t even 
try.” 

I don’t suppose I shall be any better,” said Grant, but 
I’ll play you after lunch if you like. Captain McLeod is the 
best fellow in the regiment for games, only he wouldn’t 
come. He hates ladies. I need hardly say I consider him 
to have execrable taste.” 

Hardly, indeed,” said Christina, laughing. And 1 
can’t say I feel very keen to make Captain McLeod’s ac- 
quaintance, judging by your various bits of information as 
to his manners and customs.” 

Can you make a woman more anxious to know a man 
than by telling her he hates women? That’s the glaring 
injustice of it,” said Mr. Grant, tenderly. Shall I tuck 
in the rug at your feet? You are sure you are warm 
enough? ” 

He leaned forward and rearranged Mrs. Stoddart’s wraps 
with an air of being completely engrossed by her, which 
came to him b}" instinct when he had anything to do with 
a woman. A remark about the weather from him had a 
tenderness and fervour of expression which made it almost 
equivalent to an assurance of eternal devotion. 

He was a good-looking, pleasant young fellow, and he 
got through life very comfortably and happily, being thor- 
oughly well satisfied with himself and all that concerned 
him. Mr. Grant considered himself the smartest man in 
the smartest regiment in the service. 

He looked well, undoubtedly, and he had been more 
than civil to Christina; nevertheless she found him the 
smallest trifle dull. Just now, having had his society with 
short intervals since breakfast, it was beginning to pall. 

She strangled a yawn behind her book. 

^^Is it nearly time for the next event of the day — 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


3 


limcli? ” she said. “ I expected life on board ship would 
be amusing, but it certainly isn’t.’^ 

What an unkind remark! said Grant, as she had 
felt sure he would, immediately after she had spoken. 
“ Supposing my watch is right, can you endure me for a 
quarter of an hour longer? Have you amusing people at 
your table? ” 

Far from it. I sit at one of the long tables, and I 
have on one side the fourth officer, who hardly ever turns 
up, and asks me disgusting riddles when he does; on the 
left I’ve an old man who never speaks, and opposite there 
are the most awful people you can imagine. They are a 
mother and daughter, called White, and the daughter has 
a fringe like a haystack and wears low dresses in the even- 
ing — you know the sort of girl. And they are going to 
Malta, I’m sorry to say.” 

It sounds fascinating,” said Grant, with sympathy. 

I wish you were at our table; we have just some of our 
fellows and a couple of men in the Queen’s. Is your hus- 
band in the service ? ” 

He is in the navy — on the Dauntless.” 

I have a brother on the Dauntless,” said Grant, with 
interest. 

George has only just been appointed,” said Christina, 
eagerly; ‘^Svhat sort of a ship is it? Do tell me.” 

You are a sailor’s wife, Mrs. Stoddart, and yet you call 
a ship ffit ’ ! And, if I am not mistaken, I heard you speak 
only yesterday of going up and down stairs? ” 

Christina laughed, but to Grant’s amusement she col- 
oured too. 

“ I didn’t mean to make you blush for your ignorance,” 
he said. 

It wasn’t that,” said Christina; it is because I can’t 
get used to hearing myself called ^ Mrs. Stoddart.’ It does 
sound so funny! ” 

Grant was decidedly surprised. 

Why,” he said, “ didn’t you say you had been mar- 
ried for more than three years? Haven’t you got used to 
it in all that time? ” 

^^Yes — of course,” Christina said, with unmistakable 
hesitation. 


4 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


. She was annoyed with herself for having spoken with- 
out thinking. 

What would Mr. Grant think of her? 

There was such decided question in his handsome blue 
eyes that she was half inclined to explain further, and 
probably would have done so if the luncheon bell had not 
come just then as an interruption. 

It was impossible to say anything more not intended for 
the whole ship. In the utter idleness of the first few days 
of a voyage everybody welcomed mealtimes as epochs, and 
Mrs. Stoddart^s chair was quite close to the companion. 

I suppose we had better put the rugs in the music 
saloon? was all she said after a pause. 


CHAPTER II. 

Captain McLeod had established his deck chair in a 
comfortable corner near the smoking room, and was loung- 
ing half in and half out of it, playing languidly with a small 
fox terrier of the name of Jinks. 

He had the deck almost to himself. It had been so un- 
expectedly calm all afternoon that a few energetic souls had . 
roused their fellow-passengers to play cricket, and now 
everybody had gone down to tea. 

McLeod never went in for ship games or afternoon tea. 

In the smoking room whist and piquet were in full 
swung, and a little distance off a couple of men had found 
themselves a sheltered spot and were playing chess with 
businesslike silence and deliberation. 

As the sun went down the sea was beginning to rise a 
little, and the ship w^as swaying with a deliberate motion 
not as yet unpleasant even to such a had sailor as McLeod. 

How and then through the dusk he could catch a*.- 
glimpse of the Spanish coast. It grew gradually into view 
and as gradually the side of the ship shut it out, giving him 
just a gleam of gray-blue water opposite in exchange. But 
this w'as only when a specially large wave came. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


5 


McLeod felt a languid sense of contentment. If the 
Australia were to go down at this instant, in this quiet even- 
ing light, he did not think he would take the trouble to 
fight for his life. If that were to happen, it would solve 
so many difficulties, save him from so much suffering. 

Jinks, after waiting for some time, like a well-bred dog, 
to see if his master wished him to repeat any of his per- 
formances, had jumped up on the end of the chair, and 
made himself a very cosey nest in the rug; but McLeod 
was not taking much notice of him. He was thinking — ■ 
trying to imagine the sudden sinking of the ship beneath 
him, the sudden plunge into cold water and darkness; in 
such a case, would he have the courage — or the cowardice — 
to keep his arms to his sides and make no effort to save him- 
self, knowing as he did that it would be the best, the very 
best thing that could happen to him. 

McLeod did not look like a man to let go life or any- 
thing else very easily. He was tall and well-made, with a 
plain, powerful face and grave, steady brown eyes under 
his reddish eyebrows. His hair was red and straight and 
thin, and was in his regiment popularly supposed to be a 
sore point with him, aJffording scope for innumerable 
friendly if not very brilliant witticisms. 

A certain self-confidence in his manner was often put 
down to affectation and side,” as was a habit of withdraw- 
ing himself from general conversation if he was not in- 
terested and without concealment allowing himself to 
think of something else. 

This afternoon he felt particularly unsociable. Grant, 
who took the trouble of strolling up the deck to inquire 
for his health, was by no means welcome. 

But that he could be unwelcome anywhere was beyond 
Grants conception. He was conscious of looking his best 
as he sauntered along the deck, had there been more day- 
light to do him justice. He was absolutely suitably 
dressed, as he always was, and he knew he had been par- 
ticularly successful with his moustache, which was waxed 
into exact half circles. 

He felt at peace with the world, and smiled benignly 
down on McLeod. 

The absurd sense of superiority a good sailor feels over 


6 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


a bad one bad quite blotted out a certain uneasy jealousy 
which made him inclined to avoid McLeod on shore as 
much as one man in a regiment can avoid another. 

“Got alight?’’ 

McLeod shook his head. “ You’ll get one in the smok- 
ing room,” he suggested. 

Grant, under all circumstances, bored him to distrac- 
tion. He had met liim every day for seven years, McLeod 
had once declared in exasperation, and had never heard 
him speak of anything but women and clothes. 

But his effort to get rid of him was unsuccessful. Grant 
only went just inside the smoking room, and came back 
again immediately. 

“ Faugh! how that place reeks of smoke and whisky! ” 
he said; “ do you know the bar’s open. Tommy? ” 

Captain McLeod’s godfathers and godmothers had given 
him the name of Andrew, and in the regiment he was gen- 
erally called “ Bones,” for unknown reasons, but “ Tom- 
my ” was a form of address indiscriminately used among 
a certain set of about the same standing. 

“ I am not going below till dinnertime,” he said, play- 
ing with Jinks’s ears. 

“ Feel like a constitutional ? ” 

McLeod shook his head. 

“ The fact is,” said Grant, in a burst of confidence, “ I 
want your chair for a lady.” 

McLeod laughed. “ Trust you to be looking' after 
something in petticoats,” he said; “ but in the present state 
of my health you must really excuse me. AVhy not give 
her your own chair? ” 

“ It’s not half so comfortable. She sat in yours all yes- 
terday and liked it immensely.” 

“ But it’s rather rough on me not even to have the 
reward of gratitude,” said McLeod, placidly. Grant saw 
that he had not the slightest intention of moving. 

“ She’s a Mrs. Stoddart — such a nice girl and very good 
fun,” he said, “ I am going to teach her to inhale cigarettes 
and play piquet this evening.” 

“ Hadn’t you better go and look after her, then? ” said 
]\IcLeod, by way of a delicate hint. But Grant stayed 
where he was; he stood with his hands in his pockets, 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


7 


lazily letting himself sway backward and forward with the 
motion of the ship. 

Will yon come into the music saloon after dinner? ’’ 
he said; some of them want you to play accompaniments, 
and that banjo breakdown of mine sounds nothing with- 
out the piano.” 

My good fellow, quite impossible this evening. Can’t . 
some of those dozens of girls you know play for you, or 
there’s that tall chap in the Queen’s? ” 

‘^Well, there’s a very smart little girl there awfully 
keen to know you,” said Grant. His cigarette was finished, 
and he flung away the end into the sea, taking out his hand- 
kerchief to dust some ashes off his coat and sending a whiff 
of wood violet towards McLeod, who hated scent. 

Great Scott, what a smell! ” he said. 

People were beginning to straggle up on deck again, 
sometimes singly, sometimes in festive groups. There was 
nothing left of the sunset hut a vague red glow in the sky, 
and there was an exceedingly cold wind blowing down one 
side of the deck. A shivering Lascar was going about 
lighting the lamps, which made little patches of brightness 
emphasizing the darkness round. 

A few men and one or two adventurous girls began to 
try and keep their feet up and down the deck, but the ship 
was rolling more and more, and an occasional dash of spray 
made it slippery; they cannoned into each other and into 
other people at frequent intervals. 

Do you see that girl just under the lamp? ” said Mr. 
Grant. 

What, the girl in the knitted cap with all her hair 
coming down? ” 

No, no, that’s the young woman we call the Man-eater. 
If she wants to get to know a man she goes and settles down 
beside him and introduces herself, and she was discovered 
after dinner last night in the fourth officer’s cabin, sitting 
on his knee — a whole lot of fellows went in and found 
them. No, the methods of the girl I mean aren’t quite 
so simple; she’s the little creature with a sailor hat who 
nearly knocked that man into the scuppers a minute ago.” 
McLeod looked deeply uninterested. 

Well, she came up to me just now at tea, and she said: 


8 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


‘ Won’t you introduce me to that Captain McLeod in your 
regiment? I used to know a Mr. Geoffrey McLeod in the 
Civil Service in India, and I am so anxious to know if he 
is any relation.’ Of course I said I should be delighted. 
There, I bet you ten bob she will walk past us now very 
slowly, and if possible the motion of the ship will jerk her 
against your chair.” 

“ Then for goodness’ sake let us go,” said McLeod has- 
tily; “this motion is getting rather too much of a good 
thing, anyway.” 

“ N'o, no, sit still and I’ll protect you; it’s too late in 
any case. It’s getting cold, isn’t it. Miss Fraser? I don’t 
advise you to go round the smoking room — you’ll probably 
get a wave right in your face.” 

McLeod lay back in his chair, looking and feeling very 
unapproachable, till Miss Fraser retraced her steps, which 
was not for some time — not, in fact, till three or four stray 
men had made their appearance from the smoking room, 
and one had been told off to help her to look for a sheltered 
spot for her chair. 

“ I shall catch it for not introducing you,” said Grant, 
with a laugh. “ Can you understand, Campbell, what half 
the girls on the ship see in Tommy here, who won’t look 
the same side of the deck with them, when they have 
you and me ready and willing to make ourselves agree- 
able?” 

“ My good chap, my personal charms — it only needs a 

glance to see ” said McLeod, modestly. “ Hi! get up. 

Jinks; you and I are going below.” 

“ Perversity of the sex,” said Campbell, a small, freckled 
youth who had spent the last few years at the depot, and 
was going out to Malta for the first time. “ Are you going 
below, McLeod? It’s nowhere near dinnertime.” 

“ Don’t talk of dinner to me,” said McLeod, tragically, 
“ Good-night, you fellows — it may be a trifie early, but I 
am going to bed.” 

“ A nice stable companion you are! ” said Grant, and 
there was a general laugh, while McLeod, quite unper- 
turbed, collected his rugs and whistled to Jinks. 

“ Never mind. Bones, we shall be at Gib. by one o’clock 
to-morrow, and I suppose you are going ashore.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


9 


Eather! ” said McLeod, with emphasis; you don’t 
catch me on the sea a minute longer than I can help. Be- 
sides, I want to look up some of the fellows in the Black 
Watch — Crayshaw particularly.” 

But the Lord only knows when we’ll get in,” said 
Campbell. A few days ago the captain said in time for 
breakfast, but the rough weather in the Bay kept us hack, 
and the doctor says we mayn’t have time to go in at all, 
and the second officer says we’ll get in about four p. m. 
So you take your choice.” 

Well, it’s to he hoped we get in to Malta on Friday 
anyhow — it’s the very limit of our leave, extension and all,” 
said McLeod. If it hadn’t been for that d — d quarantine, 
I should be steaming across the continent in a comfortable 
train, instead of having a foretaste of purgatory in this 
cursed ship!” 

And having thus relieved his mind he went below. 


CHAPTEE III. 

Captain McLeod, you are drawn with Mrs. Stod- 
dart.” • 

McLeod was in the smoking room with a hook and a 
pipe, rejoicing in the calmness of the morning and the 
prospect of at least two hours on firm land in the course 
of the day. He had not even noticed the entrance of Mr. 
Graham, an energetic, conceited young man, who was some- 
thing or other in Ceylon, and who had established himself 
president and promoter of games and festivities of all 
kinds, and was known on hoard as the Bounder.” 

McLeod — you are McLeod, aren’t you? — you are 
drawn with Mrs. Stoddart,” the Bounder repeated. 

What? ” 

^^For the hull tournament, I mean; Grant put down 
your name.” 

Grant had very little to do,” said McLeod, pulling 
at his moustache after a fashion of his when annoyed, I 


10 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


can’t play bull — never did in iny life. Put some one else 
in my place.” 

Oh now, do come like a good fellow; you’ll upset all 
arrangements; I shall have to change the whole thing.” 

The Bounder looked despairingly at his list. Almost 
every one had wanted something altered: some wouldn’t 
play at the last moment, others objected to the partners 
they had been drawn with, and a third variety wanted to 
choose their own time for playing and make their own 
rules. 

“ Upon my word, I think I’ll chuck the whole thing! ” 
he said, tragically. 

McLeod was quite sorry for him. 

Really,” he said, “ I haven’t a notion how the con- 
founded thing is played, or ” 

The Bounder broke in eagerly: Mrs. Stoddart will 
teach you — she’s awfully good. Do come, for Heaven’s 
sake; she knows she’s drawn with you, and how am I to 
go and tell her you won’t play with her? ” 

McLeod yawned, stretched, and yielded; in his opinion 
very few things in the world were worth making such a 
fuss about. 

^^'I’ll slaughter Grant,” he reflected by way of consola- 
tion, and then he shook the ashes out of his pipe and 
sauntered down the deck with the Bounder, with Jinks 
at his heels, and a little extra manner. 

Half the passengers of the ship were round the bull 
board, which had been repainted for the occasion, for this 
was to be a very grand performance indeed, and every- 
body had to pay two shillings entrance fee, to be spent in . 
prizes at Gib. 

It was the turn of McLeod and his partner to play against 
the doctor and a girl in a dirty red blouse, and they were 
all waiting for McLeod, which, however, was certainly not 
his fault. 

He raised his cap gravely to Mrs. Stoddart when he 
was introduced. 

I am very sorry,” he said, to be late; but I knew 
nothing about this till flve minutes ago. I don’t know how 
to play in the least, and I am afraid you will find me a very 
bad partner.” 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


11 


Whereupon he relapsed into calm silence. 

It was not that he meant to he rude; simply he had 
nothing to say, and consequently said nothing. 

Mrs. Stoddart took a businesslike and real interest in 
the game, and played very well; her attention was fully 
engrossed till she discovered that her partner had a straight 
eye and a steady hand, and that their victory was a fore- 
gone conclusion. 

But most undoubtedly McLeod did not look exhila- 
rated; he picked up her bits of lead for her promptly, 
played carefully when his turn came, and amused himself 
with Jinks in the intervals. 

Christina began to feel slightly piqued by liis inatten- 
tion, and called it incivility and “ side ” to herself. 

“You don’t seem very keenly interested,” she said, 
abruptly. 

McLeod had lifted Jinks on to the rail of the ship, and 
was amusing himself by blowing into the little dog’s ears 
and making him shake his head. 

From this engaging pastime he turned at once. 

“ Well, I hope we shall win,” he said with a smile, “ but 
I am afraid my manners are deplorable. I don’t shine in 
society.” 

Christina thought to herself that he had a remarkably 
nice smile, and McLeod, after a pause, returned to Jinks. 

But curiosity and perversity combined to determine 
her to make him speak. 

Next time he had finished playing she intercepted him 
on his way to Jinks with a remark, her originality failing 
her, on the calmness of the sea. “ I am glad to see you 
on deck. I am afraid you haven’t had a very cheerful voy- 
age so far,” she said. 

“ It is an awful shame of Mr. Grant to give me away,” 
McLeod said. “ I am a wretched sailor. It’s your turn, 
Mrs. Stoddart — we are for the right bull, coming back. 
If you take my advice you will stand a little more side- 
ways.” 

“ Play up for the honour of the regiment. Tommy,” said 
Campbell, standing near. “ McFerran and I have disgraced 
ourselves and distracted our partners.” 

“We are only five numbers to the good. Look here. 


12 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


J orrocks, I’ll back our play at two to one, if you like,” said 
McLeod. 

But Campbell wisely shook his head, and went to pick 
up Mrs. Stoddart’s leads, returning to where she and her 
partner w^ere standing, and proving much more success- 
ful in bringing McLeod into the conversation. 

He and Mrs. Stoddart were on quite friendly terms by 
the time Mr. Grant appeared, he having adjourned half an 
hour before for a wdiisky and soda and a cigarette. 

He sauntered up with his usual benign appearance, liis 
cap on one side of his head and a general air of satisfaction 
wdth himself and all the world on his handsome face. 

Hullo! Tommy, so you are in the height of society,” 
he said to McLeod, who had just ended the game by a 
triumphant throw of three tens running. 

ITl thank you properly wdien we go below to-night,” 
said McLeod. 

^^And let me further increase my right to your grati- 
tude by introducing you to Miss White — that girl with the 
fringe like a horse’s tail — you know her, Mrs. Stoddart,” 
said Grant, completely unabashed. She deserves it, for 
she has done her best to manage it for herself. I saw her 
trying on the chair trick this morning, but you walked 
past with your head in the air, and never even saw the 
unfortunate girl trying to fix her chair north-northeast, 
instead of due south.” 

Whereupon McLeod disclaimed any knowdedge of Miss 
White, or any desire to make her acquaintance, and turned 
the conversation by an inquiry as to when they were ex- 
pected to get into Gib., and Campbell was struck with ad- 
miration of a gorgeous pair of yellow boots, just then the 
most striking part of Mr. Grant’s attire, and expressed his 
admiration loudly. 

“Never mind. Tommy,” said McLeod, “they’ll look 
very fetching in the Strada Eeale. — ^^Irs. Stoddart, I am 
quite at your service wdienever you like to arrange for us to 
play again, if you wouldn’t mind sending somebody to the 
smoking room for me.” 

“ And, Mrs. Stoddart, it’s just teatime, and I invite 
you to tea with me,” said Mr. Grant. “ Ship tea and ship 
buns, and ^ animal grab ’ and ^ up J enkins ’ af terw^ard. The 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


13 


deck is really too cold, and we’ll make a select party. Will 
3^ou conne, Tommy? ” 

McLeod ungratefully declined. 

My dear fellow,” he said, I daren’t risk it; it would 
be as much as my character in Mrs. Stoddart’s eyes is worth. 
The saloon is no place for any one not in the rudest of 
health.” 

With which he slightly raised his cap and strolled away. 
Jinks trotting ac his heels. 

“Well, what do you think of McLeod?” said Grant, 
as he and Mrs. Stoddart and Campbell went down the com- 
panion together. 

“ I should like him better with less side on and without 
such enormously high collars,” said Christina, without en- 
thusiasm. “ He’s not bad on the whole; he doesn’t talk, 
but I don’t think it is because he is stupid.” 

“ It’s not that, certainly,” Grant said. “ He’s a queer 
fellow. W^hich table shall we go to? Let me make tea — 
I flatter myself I know how.” 

They were rather early, and there was an unflnished 
match at bull going on on deck, so they had no difficulty 
in fluffing a table for themselves in a comfortable corner 
and just under a porthole. 

Then, after a few social amenities, such as Mr. Grant’s 
requesting to know who had invited Campbell to his tea 
party, and Campbell’s refusing to drink his tea unless made 
by Mrs. Stoddart, and with the sugar put in before the 
milk, the conversation returned to McLeod. 

“ He’s an awfully good sort,” Campbell said, helping 
himself largely to cake, “ and he’s had a queer sort of life. 
He studied for the stage for two years, and he was always 
mad about it — is now, for the matter of that. Then all 
of a sudden he chucked it — I don’t think anybody knows 
why — and he never mentions the subject.” 

“ But he comes out strong in regimental theatricals or 
at the garrison concerts in Malta,” added Grant. “Let 
me give you some more tea, Mrs. Stoddart ? ” 

Christina remarked that Captain McLeod had a very 
sad face; she had thought so the very flrst time Mr. Grant 
had pointed him out. Didn’t he like the army as well as 
the stage? 

2 


14 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


“ Poor chap,” said Campbell, with sudden gravity, if 
I were he, I should feel pretty down on my luck. He shot 
his greatest friend in the regiment about a year ago.” 

“ Shot him! ” Christina exclaimed. 

Campbell turned to Grant. 

“ Tommy knows more about it than I do,” he said. I 
was at the depot.” 

“ It is not a pleasant thing to talk about,” Grant said, 
shortly. 

“ But you must tell me now you have begun,” said 
Christina. He didnT — hill him? ” 

It was a fellow called Beresford,” said Grant, un- 
willingly. He was to have been married in a week, and 
a lot of us were going up to the wedding. McLeod was to 
have been best man. Beresford died the day he was to 
have been married in the most awful agony. McLeod near- 
ly went off his head. IPs not a nice story for afternoon tea, 
Mrs. Stoddart.” 

Oh, poor fellow! ” said Christina. 

Neither Campbell nor Grant said any more, and there 
was a silence. 

The thoughts of the two men were full of Beresford; 
he had joined on the same day as Grant, and they had been 
six years in the regiment together. Christina was thinking 
of McLeod, whom she had been inclined to laugh at as con- 
ceited ten minutes ago, and who she now thought more 
to be pitied than anybody she had ever met. But it was 
many a long day before she knew how much he was in need 
of pity. 

Somebody came over from the next table and asked if 
Mrs. Stoddart knew that they would not get into Gib. till 
after dinner, and that it would be too late to go ashore. 
And Mr. Grant went for a pack of cards and collected re- 
cruits for “ animal grab.” 

But Christina could not get McLeod out of her head, 
and lost her cards recklessly. 


MgLEOD of the CAMERONS. 


15 


CHAPTER IV. 

The Australia got to Gib., at about eight p. m., and 
going ashore was hopeless. She had been delayed in the 
Bay and had half a day to make up, so she only stopped 
for an hour or so to put some passengers ashore and to 
take in the mails. 

It was quite dark, but the moon would be up in time 
for a farewell glimpse of the rock as they steamed away, 
and thaVwas ail they would see of it. A good many people 
were disappointed, among others Christina Stoddart, who 
was anxious to see all she could. 

However, when the mails came on board Grant went 
down to the cabin and got her a letter, which consoled her. 
Then, as there was H. M. S. Dauntless on the back, and she 
took it very eagerly, he left her and strolled off along the 
deck to find a group of men deep in their papers and full 
of the items of news they were picking up. 

Rough luck. Tommy,” he said to McLeod, ‘‘ though 
I can’t say I care much about getting on shore myself.” 

McLeod shrugged his shoulders and filled his pipe. 

They have started their old hare of making us into 
Guards at the War Office,” he said, or at least the papers 
say they have.” 

They’ll never do it,” said McFerran, if they sent us 
to London I should be broke in a week. Those confounded 
strikes have pretty well done for me as it is.” 

Of course if you represent that to the War Office it 
will be absolutely conclusive,” said Campbell. 

They will give us a second battalion — ^that I firmly 
believe,” said McLeod. 

There was not much news in these November papers, 
but still everybody had some item to impart, and they 
might have passed the evening very comfortably where they 
were if Miss White’s appearance had not cast the group 
into dismayed confusion. The Man-eater was a big girl, 
with a big fringe of black, frizzled hair, big features, and 
a particularly big mouth; every man on the ship knew that 
once captured, escape from her was almost an impossL 
bility. 


16 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I am sure you don’t want to play that horrid whist, 
Captain Grant,” she said, sweetly; so do please get your 
banjo and sing us something while the ship is at anchor 
— it will he so romantic.” . 

Mr. Grant, ever obliging, consented at once. 

Rather a shame if I didn’t, as she always gives me my 
step,” he said in an aside to McFerran. 

And then Miss White turned to McLeod, and with her 
usual frankness began her acquaintance with him by in- 
sisting that he should come and play the piano to her, as 
she had heard that he played so beautifully; and as she 
was not a person to be easily repulsed, McLeod, who to do 
him justice had never been rude to a woman in his life, 
most unwillingly consented. 

Won’t you be glad when we get to Malta and see the 
Pink Un and Poonghie, and have nothing more to do with 
women?” he asked Jinks confidentially, and, to judge by 
his extremely stiff reception of Miss White’s caresses. Jinks 
fully agreed with his master. 

But nevertheless McLeod and Miss White, with Jinks 
and a few old ladies knitting in a corner as chaperons, had 
a tete-a-tete in the music room, of which he never heard the 
last till he arrived at Malta. 

It was a deliciously mild evening for the end of Novem- 
ber, and every one else was on deck. There were two 
banjos going, and a good deal of singing, and at the end 
somebody turned up with a zither. A few people suggested 
dancing, but unsuccessfully, and then, McLeod having 
escaped. Miss White appeared, and started everybody to 
draw pigs with their eyes shut, and some of the men tried 
feats of strength and skill with chairs and tumblers full of 
water, which generally resulted in ignominious failure. 

Grant was in the middle of everything and in his ele- 
ment, but his head being just then very full of Mrs. S tod- 
dart, he did not fail to notice that she, who was generally 
so actite and in such good spirits, had drawn a little apart, 
and was not joining more than she could help. 

She looked quite pretty in the evening, he thought to 
himself; she had pretty eyes and pretty hair, and she was 
sitting half in lamplight, half in shade. Had she drawn 
apart because she wanted him to go and talk to her? Mr. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 17 

Grant considered it was within the limits of possibility, 
and that such a laudable desire deserved to be gratified. 

But just then Christina did not happen to be thinking 
about him, beyond being quite conscious that he was looking 
at her. She was genuinely depressed, though without any 
particular reason. 

She could not bear the Whites — that was the only dis- 
tinct idea she had formed; their coarseness, affectation, 
and vulgarity made her feel positively ill, and yet sit op- 
posite them she must at every meal till they reached Malta. 
She could not snub them or be cool; much as she disliked 
them, she had an unconquerable and inconvenient instinct 
which made her try to please everybody and to make every- 
body like her. 

Then Mrs. White had announced at dinner that night 
that she had at last discovered Christina’s name, and that 
George Stoddart was a great friend of hers; that her hus- 
band had been on the same ship at Halifax, and again for 
a year in China, and she hoped they would see a lot of each 
other in Malta. Was it possible that George would have 
anything to say to such people? But of course he must 
be civil to his messmates’ wives and daughters. Besides, 
had not Mrs. White informed her almost in the same breath 
and with many significant hints that Beatrice had been so 
much admired — that the Duke of York had once enter- 
tained an admiration for her which had aroused serious 
anxiety on the part of the Prince of Wales; had she not, 
with a strong cockney accent and an occasional disregard 
of grammar, declared her friendship with all the most im- 
portant people in Malta and elsewhere? Most probably 
there was about the same amount of truth in all her state- 
ments, and her great friendship with George consisted in 
a few formal calls — George was always so polite. 

He had written a very nice letter too, a letter full of 
welcome and joy about her coming, and, often as she had 
been told she was fanciful and too particular, nobody could 
have imagined she would be so particular as to be annoyed 
with the beginning. 

My dearest old child ” — it was a very nice beginning, 
and showed that he was fond of her, and, besides, he had 
begun that way a hundred times before. 


18 


MgLEOD of the CAMERONS. 


She knew nothing about the way other men wrote to 
their wives; probably, for instance, Mr. Grant — she 
glanced at him — but no, she could not imagine that Mr. 
Grant would ever begin a letter My dearest old child.” 

But George was worth a dozen Mr. Grants, and she 
would be very, very glad to see him. 

The Australia was beginning to get under way, and 
innumerable Lascars were scudding about the deck and in- 
terrupting everybody. 

The groups broke up gradually, and people strayed off 
in different directions to try and get a glimpse of Gib. by 
the help of the rising moon. 

Mr. Grant and some other men came up. 

“ I suppose, Mrs. Stoddart,” said McLeod, gravely, 
that you canT balance a glass full of water on the top of 
your head, and lie down and get up again without spilling 
it?” 

Neither can you, McLeod, apparently,” said Camp- 
bell, with a laugh, while Christina was too much astonished 
at his coming up to speak to her to say anything. 

Tommy can bear witness that I have often done it 

after mess,” said McLeod; “ it’s being on board ship ” 

won’t take Tommy’s evidence after mess,” said 
Campbell, whereupon Grant, by a skilful movement, sent 
him staggering back into the scuppers, and began to tell 
a tale of a man in Malta who could eat a wine glass, if it 
were made worth his while. 

But the cleverest thing I ever saw done,” said Camp- 
bell, when he had regained his breath, was this evening, 
when the Man-eater descended upon McLeod and simply 
bore him off before all his friends! You had no more fight 
in you than a baby, Tommy, especially when she told you 
— I heard her distinctly — that the Highland regiments 
were the sweetest in the service; that the Cameron High- 
landers was the sweetest of them; and, I lost the thread 
just then, but I have no doubt she added that you were 
the sweetest man in the Cameron Highlanders.” 

It will be a long time before any one says as much 
to you, Jorrocks, anyway,” said McLeod. 

Christina had never seen them in such good spirits, and 
she laughed and brightened up sympathetically. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


19 


But presently they all moved away, except Mr. Grant, 
and his tone changed at once. 

Why wouldn’t you play games this evening? ” he 
said, softly. 

I can’t stand the Whites,” Christina said; the way 
that girl speaks and laughs makes my flesh creep, and I 
have to stand it at mealtimes. The mother makes such 
a noise eating, and ‘ dear Beatrice ’ carries on the vul- 
garest flirtation you can imagine with an awful man who 
sits next her. I couldn’t stand any more of them this 
evening.” 

Yet when I first saw you I thought you were great 
friends, and certainly ^ dear Beatrice ’ thinks you are,” said 
Grant. 

Don’t talk about them please,” said Christina; you 
must answer civilly when a person mZ/ talk to you.” 

Come to the stern and look at the phosphorus,” said 
Grant, “ and we’ll talk of whatever you like.” 

Christina was very glad; she did not want to sit alone 
any longer, and she liked Mr. Grant. 

She had a theory that she only cared to make friends 
of' clever men, and he was undoubtedly not clever; he 
was a poor thing, perhaps, hut her own — just at present 
— to send messages, to neglect or favour with society as she 
liked, to look after her generally, and think out plans of 
amusement for her. He was exceedingly obliging and 
always looked well. 

But Christina’s head was far too full of George to waste 
many thoughts on Mr. Grant. 

She had enjoyed the voyage immensely; she had made 
friends and felt at home, and now suddenly George’s letter 
had made her understand that in two or three days this 
easy, careless life would be over, and for better or for worse 
a completely new one begun. Most of her new friends 
she would in all probability never see again; why not make 
a friend of this man — why not talk freely to him, and know 
there was at least one person to take an interest in her in 
beginning her new life — ^besides George, of course? 

She had felt the same sudden nervous loneliness and 
aloofness to the rest of the world before, but never quite 
so strongly. 


20 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Kind and friendly as all her new acquaintances were, 
when they said good-by to her at Malta the rest of her life 
would matter to no single one of them — and why should 
it? 

Always, as yet, Christina had been trying to avoid stand- 
ing alone, to find somebody to share the responsibility of 
her life with her. 

At home she had had a strong interest of her own to 
absorb her, and George’s letters; now, when every hour 
was bringing her nearer to him, there seemed suddenly 
to be the full three years and a half of their marriage be- 
tween them in her mind. 

Grant, who she had known for only a few days, was more 
familiar and tangible. 

Christina leaned over the side of the ship and watched 
the gleam of the phosphorus; she listened uncomprehend- 
ingly to one or two remarks from Grant; then she dashed 
into the subject of which her mind was full. 

Mr. Grant, I am sure you must have thought it funny 
when I said to you once that I was not used to being called 
Mrs. Stoddart? ” 

He was interested by this beginning at once; the dusk, 
the regular motion of the ship, the stray glimmer of moon- 
light fighting its way through the gray, cloudy sky, and 
occasionally lighting up the white foam the Australia left 
behind her — everything seemed to him conducive to senti- 
ment, and the result of his large experience was that when 
a woman began voluntarily to talk confidentially about her- 
self, the result generally was sentiment. 

I had no right to ask questions then” he said, softly, 
but now that we are such friends ” 

“ The truth is that nobody knew I was married till a few 
weeks ago,” said Christina, with a rush. 

Having said it, she felt it sounded rather interesting. 

“ I was at school till I was nearly nineteen,” she said, 
and I was mad to come home; but when I did, it wasn’t 
very happy.” 

She paused, and Grant felt justified in coming a little 
closer and touching her hand ever so accidentally with 
his own. They were both half in earnest, and only half, 
in their different parts, but Christina would have been 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS, 


21 


direly offended had the thought of a commonplace flirta- 
tion been suggested to her mind. 

There were — reasons/’ she said, why I was unhappy 
at home, and it was dull — frightfully. Papa wouldn’t let 
mamma have almost any one to stay that winter, and when 
he did, he wouldn’t let me have anything to say to them 
without a row. Then mamma went to London for the sea- 
son. I thought till the last minute I was to go. I was mad 
to go.” 

Christina could see herself white, despairing, while her 
father and mother exchanged the few hitter words w^hich 
had decided her fate for another year. Another year — 
it had seemed such an eternity then. 

Mr. Grant said it was a shame. 

Papa wouldn’t go up to town or speak to mamma 
at all,” Christina went on, and at home I didn’t often see 
him. He brought George to lunch one day.” 

Her thoughts would wander as her words brought hack 
all that had happened to her. Her father had met George 
by chance, had fraternized with him over Ashing, and had 
brought him up to Yardon Park to lunch, hut not with the 
intention of introducing him to his daughter — that was 
an accident. Christina remembered him vaguely, big, 
clean-shaven, impetuous, but no effort could bring up a 
clear picture of his face. He had made no secret of his ad- 
miration from the first, and to a girl who had always been 
led to believe herself plain and insignificant it was very 
delightful. 

You will tell me the rest, won’t you? ” said Mr. Grant, 
and she roused herself with a start. 

That is almost all, I think,” she said. It began that 
day, and when papa first got an idea of it he was — raging ! 
But it went on all the same, though he didn’t know. Don’t 
you think it was bad of me? ” 

Perfectly right,” said Mr. Grant, with decision. I 
always do exactly what I like myself.” 

Well, one day he told me he was ordered to China — 
would I marry him? It was very natural he should want 
that,” Christina ended rather defiantly. 

Perfectly natural,” Mr. Grant agreed again; he was 
too wise to leave you free for some luckier fellow.” 


22 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


It was the first time any man had ever asked me to 
marry him, and it was very exciting — and so — I said yes. 
I didnH tell anybody, because it would have meant such a 
row. He went to China. I was of age and got my own 
money a year ago, but as we had waited so long it seemed 
better to wait till he came to Malta.” 

“ It is awfully good of you to have told me all this,” said 
Grant. 

“ But it’s just a little queer meeting him again. I only 
knew him three weeks, and since then I have had two seasons 
in town, I have been to Norway, to Homburg, and to Nice, 
and it seems like a lifetime ago. I don’t even believe I 
shall know him ” — and Christina laughed nervously — “ he 
must have changed; anyway, I have.” 

People do change,” said Mr. Grant, somewhat as 
if he thought that he was stating the result of a dis- 
covery of his own. “ I was engaged to a girl once before 
we went to India. I came home after two years, upon 
my soul for no other reason but to see her I believe; 
and then we met, and I didn’t care a straw for her. She 
was all right, but, by Jove! the keenness was gone. 
Though of course it is quite different for you,” he ended 
hastily. 

And what did you do ? ” asked Christina, eagerly. 

Broke it off — what else could I do? It wasn’t my 
fault.” 

^^Ah, but I’m married,” said Christina, under her 
breath. 

Then she was silent, thinking over this girl’s case and 
her own. 

“ Did she not care, either? ” she said at last. 

Grade ? — oh, poor little girl, I am afraid she did. But 
it was very — flat.” 

There was a complacent ring in Grant’s tone which at 
another time would have irritated Christina. 

It would be worse than flat if that were to happen 
to me,” she said. 

Her love-making had been, she knew, hurried, born of 
idleness and extreme youth, and the awestruck joy of find- 
ing herself of importance to anybody. What if, as Mr. 
Grant said, the meeting was flat ” ? 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


23 


I think 1^11 go below/^ she said, shivering a little, 
though the evening was not cold. 

And they then discovered that it was past eleven o’clock, 
and that the deck lights were all out. 

Mr. Grant strolled oft complacently to the smoking 
room. 

I have had such a pleasant evening,” he said. Mrs. 
Stoddart was kind enough to take me into her confidence 
in the moonlight, and we enjoyed ourselves so much that 
we forgot the time.” 

“ Will you cut in. Tommy? ” McLeod interrupted, look- 
ing up from his whist. 


CHAPTER V. 

Lo^tg before it was time to get up on Friday morning 
Christina was awakened by the extreme difficulty of re- 
maining in her berth at all, and by a general condition of 
noisy motion all round her. 

The day before had been very pleasant; people had 
begun to be friendly, and anxious to amuse themselves 
and each other; in the evening they had had a dance, and 
she had gone to bed in the happiest frame of mind, having 
put away all misgivings and being prepared to look for- 
ward to her arrival in Malta with unclouded pleasure. 

It was depressing to awaken to such a morning as this. 
The ports had been made fast during the night, and were 
so blinded with spray that nothing could be seen out of 
them; everything unsecured was flying about the cabin — 
even her box, which was not a light one, was making erratic 
\ darts in all directions. In the berth underneath, the lady 
who shared her cabin was violently ill. 

Christina’s one idea was escape. She got up and dressed 
as well as she could, propping herself between the wash- 
ing basin and the wall, and tr 3 ring to avoid her cabin box, 
which occasionally dashed violently in her direction. 

Then, after a dangerous journey through passages, di- 


24 : 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


versified by meeting a couple of men in pyjamas on their 
way to the bathroom, she crawled up the companion and 
on deck, feeling herself a miserable object. 

It was impossible to stand, and as the decks had just 
been washed there was nowhere dry to sit. It was blowing 
hard and bitterly cold. 

Christina was impressionable, and her spirits sank to 
their lowest ebb at this unpromising beginning to the most 
important day in her life. 

She stood drearily in the doorway of the companion 
looking out at the gray tossing water and cloudy sky; 
every now and then a rush of cold wind caught her hair 
and pulled it out of tidy folds, dashing something wet, 
whether spray or rain she was not sure, against her face. 

Presently Mr. Grant and another man came straggling 
along the deck, and things improved appreciably. They 
abused the deceitfulness of the Mediterranean in concert. 
Mr. Grant said that to the best of his belief the wind was 
driving them on, not keeping them back; then they got a 
chair for Christina and lashed it in a sheltered corner, and 
brought her rugs, and were with difficulty persuaded to 
let her decline a tumbler of whisky and soda to make her 
warm. Finally Grant sat down on the end of her chair, 
and borrowed a share of her rug. 

^^No Captain McLeod this morning, I suppose?” said 
Christina. 

He has got a sad expression to-day with a vengeance! ” 
said Grant, laughing. 

So I shall never see him more,” said Christina. “ I 
rather wanted to, for I have just discovered I was at school 
with his cousin, Gerty Russell-Boyd.” 

^^You know his people then, perhaps? His eldest 
brother, Lord Drumesk, is a convict or a lunatic, or some- 
thing unpleasant. At anyrate, I know the estates and so on 
are no good to him, and yet he keeps McLeod out. But I 
can be much more useful to you than he when we get to 
Malta. Mind you always let me know when you want tickets 
for club dances or race meetings.” 

Christina thanked him quite warmly — for all she knew, 
tickets for club dances and race meetings might be the most 
difficult things in the world to get — and moved by her 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


25 


gratitude he rose to more generous offers. She must come 
to tea with him on guard, and soon, too, for he expected to 
get his company in a month or so; there was one of his 
ponies he felt sure would carry a lady 

Christina realized that Malta was indeed near. 

Grant came to breakfast with her, as there were plenty 
of vacancies at table, and they were quite gay. 

About one o’clock the sea began to grow calm, as they 
came in sight of Gozo, and Christina, to make sure of being 
in time, went down to her cabin, finished packing, and got 
ready to go ashore. 

She must look her very best; she was wearing a blue 
serge coat and skirt, and she changed her shirt twice and 
her tie a dozen times before she felt satisfied. Mr. Grant 
himself could not have been more particular. 

She put a new black ribbon on her sailor hat, and got 
out her very smartest shoes and stockings. 

Then she looked in the glass. 

No, George would not find her changed for the worse. 

At nineteen she had still been a little unfinished and 
awkward; she had not known how to put on her clothes, 
and her manner had lacked confidence. 

Now, though she did not consider herself pretty, she 
knew she looked smart, that she held herself well, and that 
she was perfectly at her ease. 

If George remembered her as she had been, he would 
not be disappointed in her appearance, and if he were dis- 
appointed in anything else, it would not be her fault. 
Never, if she could help it, should there be between them 
quarrels and jealousies and recriminations, such as had 
made her home in England a miserable one. Her home life 
had taught her that, at anyrate, if it had taught her other 
less desirable things. 

She went up again on deck. They did not seem to have 
advanced much, and Christina thought she had never spent 
such an endless day in her life. 

Later on Captain McLeod made his first appearance on 
deck. 

I shall be as glad as you when we get in, Mrs. Stoddart,” 
he said. Grant is a brute. He awakened me to misery 
by starting to smoke cigarettes in his berth at an unholy 


26 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Lour this morning, and then when I was trying to get to 
sleep he must needs have himself shaved, and finally he 
woke me up to ask me what I would have for hreakfast! 
What a beastly voyage we’ve had — I knew we would, when 
we started on a Friday.” 

Christina asked if he really believed in Friday as un- 
lucky, because, if true, it was rather unfortunate for her. 
McLeod said he really did, but hoped this particular Friday 
would be an exception for her, and was sure it would for 
him, as the limit of his desires at present was to find himself 
on dry land, and to have a comfortable bed to sleep in at 
night. 

Just think of it,” he said — “a delicious, soft, com- 
fortable, steady bed again! ” 

Christina turned away abruptly, and walked up to 
where every one was assembled, with and without glasses, 
trying to catch a first glimpse of Malta. 

Come and look through my glasses, Mrs. Stoddart,” 
said Mr. Campbell. If you see a little gray blur, you will 
know it is Malta.” 

^^And if you see a little black spot on the gray blur, 
you’ll know it is Stoddart,” said Mr. Grant. 

Christina was very restless; she could not talk to any- 
body — not even to Grant. 

Once she turned to him abruptly as they stood together. 

I’ve been thinking about that girl,” she said; haven’t 
you any feeling left for her at all? If you were to meet 
her now, shouldn’t you mind one way or the other? ” 

Not if she behaved sensibly. If she didn’t, I should 
mind very much.” 

Christina gave a little cry of indignation. That is so 
like a man! ” she said. 

Hang it all, Mrs. Stoddart, that’s rather hard,” said 
Mr. Grant; you asked me a question and I answered.” ‘ 

I only said you were like a man,” said Christina; 
there — I can’t talk any more. Shall we never get to 
Malta? ” 

We’ll be in very soon,” Grant said, cheerfully; look 
how near everything is getting. You can make out Yaletta 
now.” 

Oh, I wish it was over! ” said Christina. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


27 


Somehow that girl with whom Mr. Grant had once 
been in love, and to whom he was now completely indiffer- 
ent, stuck in her mind. 

In spite of herself, she was getting more nervous every 
minute. 

Presently she went to her cabin to put final touches to 
her packing, and tie on a veil, so that the wind should not 
toss her hair before she saw George. She tipped the stew- 
ards and stewardess, and had her cabin box and rug. strap 
brought on deck. Then, having nothing else left to do, 
she amused herself by trying for the fiftieth time to distin- 
guish her own luggage in the pile which had Just been 
brought up from the hold. 

When she came back to the hurricane deck the Australia 
had reached the entrance of the quarantine harbour. 

People were beginning to come up in shoregoing cos- 
tume, and those who were not leaving the ship at Malta 
were planning expeditions and making up parties. 

Mr. Grant came on deck in a very light suit, with a most 
gorgeous tie and aggressively waxed moustache. 

He proceeded to show Christina various points of in- 
terest on either side of the harbour. 

Captain McLeod came up, quite sociable, in his Joy at 
getting near dry land. 

What are you going to do. Grant? ” he said. Camp- 
bell and I are going ashore in the first boat we can get, and 
straight to Pembroke.” 

I haven’t packed,” said Grant. I told my servant 
to come on board and see to my things, so I shall wait.” 

McLeod turned to Christina. ^'Nearly there now, 
Mrs. Stoddart,” he said. I suppose your husband will 
come to meet you?” 

There are some boats coming off from the Marsamas- 
cetto steps,” said Grant. Lend me your glasses a minute, 
McLeod.” 

Where? where? — I can’t see,” said Christina. 

Hullo! McLeod, I can make out Seton-Kerr, and, I 
think, Davis, in that boat farthest to the left,” said Grant. 

The hurricane deck was crowded; people who had 
glasses were lending them in all directions, and every now 
and then somebody discovered a friend as they came nearer. 


28 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


It was quite warm, and the breeze had gone down. The 
water was a real Mediterranean blue with the sun shining 
on it, in contrast to the grayness of Valetta and Sliema on 
either side. 

Dozens of little green boats were dotted all over the bay, 
bright spots on the clear blueness of the water. 

“ Won’t you take the glasses for a minute, Mrs. Stod- 
dart? Can you see him?” said Grant. 

Christina could not hold the glasses straight; to her 
disgust her hands were trembling perceptibly. 

“ I had better go and see about my belongings,” said 
McLeod; keep the glasses. Tommy, if you like, so long 
as you don’t leave them behind.” 

“ I’ll go and see that my wife’s things are brought on 
deck,” said McFerran. 

Every one was suddenly full of his or her own busi- 
ness. 

Grant moved to put down the glasses, and Christina 
turned round sharply. 

Oh, please don’t go! ” she said, with a sudden impulse. 

He was touched by her forlornness, as well as curious 
to see how it would all end. “ Of course not,” he said; it 
will be all right, never fear.” 

^Ht is ridiculous,” said Christina, with a wavering 
smile, but I never felt so frightened in my life.” 

The Australia had stopped altogether now; the boats 
had come quite close, and the rowers were bargaining with 
the passengers and disputing with each other, shoving 
and shouting and cursing in Maltese and English. People 
on board ship exchanged greetings at the top of their voices 
with friends in the boats, and a couple of scanty dressed 
natives were diving for coppers. 

The ladder had been let down, and the doctor* was on 
it, report in hand. 

Cook’s and King’s men had come on board, with various 
other official-looking people, and the passengers were con- 
sulting with them and with each other, arranging plans 
and saying good-bys. 

It was a babel of noise and movement. 

“Can’t you see Stoddart yet?” said Mr. Grant; “he 
must be there.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


29 


No/’ said Christina. Oh, when will they come on 
deck? ” 

In a few minutes, when the doctor has given his re- 
port. There’s a fellow in a boat at the hack who doesn’t 
seem to know anybody. Could that be your husband? ” 

“ I don’t think so,” said Christina, shaking her head; 
she could scarcely speak. 

“Hullo! Campbell and McLeod have got a boat al- 
ready. That fat chap is Seton-Kerr. How are you, 
Jimmy? ” 

McLeod stood up in the boat and raised his cap. Jinks, 
who had established himself comfortably in the stern, 
barked joyfully. Christina thought McLeod might have 
come to say good-by to her; they were not special friends, 

but still She turned with sudden gratitude to Grant, 

but he was talking to some man who had just come on 
board. 

What had become of George? What was delapng him? 

She felt she would have given much to have been able 
to go quietly to a hotel for the night and not to meet him 
till the morning, but as this was obviously impossible, she 
wished he would come at once. 

Kitty! ” said a voice behind her. 

She turned sharply. 

A tall, bearded man, with sloping shoulders, a freckled 
face, and rather a snub nose, confronted her. He took her 
hand, and drawing her toward him, kissed her affection- 
ately. 

“ My dear old Kitty! ” he said, “ I am charmed to see 
you.” 

Christina drew away from him, flushing crimson, and 
then growing deadly pale; she turned instinctively to Mr. 
Grant. 

But there was only one thing left for him to do, and 
he did it. 

“ I can’t be of any more use to you, now your husband 
has found you, can I, Mrs. Stoddart? ” he said, and then, 
raising his cap, he turned away. 

Christina felt completely forsaken. 

“ Who’s that chap just come on board? ” said Grant to a 
sailor he knew, who had come to meet his wife. 

3 


30 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Which do you mean? Where?” 

Over there, with that smart-looking girl — very nice 
girl, too. He doesn’t look quite — eh? ” 

Oh, well, of course not. He’s only a fellow called 
Stoddart — naval engineer. Sound enough chap, but rather 
bumptious.” 

Great Scott! ” said Mr. Grant, that’s very odd. She’s 
a ’cute young woman — she always said he was ^in the 
navy.’ ” 

Then he went to look after his servant and his own 
affairs, and for the time being forgot Christina and hers. 


CHAPTER VI. 

'^Tms is the drawing room,” said George Stoddart, 
and the dining room we shall see next. Not a bad flat, is 
it? And this is Caroline.” 

Christina was not immensely impressed by any of these 
pieces of intelligence. The drawing room was really fair- 
sized and fairly furnished, but to her English eyes it 
looked very bare, and Caroline was a red-headed, capless 
Maltese, with a gaping rent down the side of her bodice 
and a skirt of a different pattern. However, she greeted 
her future mistress with a beaming smile of welcome, and 
looked as pleased in her own way as George did in his. 

Christina felt herself in a sort of dream. The paddles 
of the Australia were still going in her head, and every- 
thing round her seemed to be swaying up and down. 

She was overdone and overexcited, and, though she 
was not particularly given to tears, it was all she could do 
to keep from crying, which would, she felt, be a ridiculous 
climax. 

George and she had so much and yet so little to say; 
they were so near and yet they were such utter strangers. 
And — was it only his beard which made him seem so totally 
different from what she had fancied? 

She constrained herself to go round the drawing room 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


31 


and admire his preparations for her reception, to show 
an interest in a framed photograph of his last ship and a 
couple of groups of men and officers. 

George assured her that his last ship was the finest in 
the service and the officers the pleasantest lot, but that the 
Dauntless in both ways was better still; this was a capital 
flat, in the best part of Valetta; he had got those two arm- 
chairs an excellent bargain, he had secured the best cook 
in Malta, and Caroline was a treasure. 

Certainly he seemed prepared to take a satisfactory 
view of things in general. 

We shall have a capital time,” he said, cheerfully; 
you like going out and so do I, and there will he lots going 
on. I know plenty of people to introduce you to, and there 
is a very Jolly family, great friends of mine, coming to the 
flat above us. You are sure to like them, and there is a 
girl you will be able to go about with when you haven’t 
got me, which won’t he oftener than I can help. It has 
been very hard on us to he separated for so long, and we 
must make the most of each other now, old girl, mustn’t 
we? ” 

Of course,” said Christina, stupidly. He was very 
kind, and she felt herself dull and ungrateful. 

It was perfectly idiotic to mind if his voice was a trifle 
loud; people did not make their own voices, and probably 
all sailors got used to talking loud. It was only because 
she was so tired and giddy that everything Jarred. 

This is our room,” said George. He was not at all 
embarrassed; had they never been separated for the three 
and a half years of their marriage his manner could not 
have been less so, though it might have been less eager. 

But Christina flushed red to the roots of her brown 
hair. 

We have got a nice halcon)^, looking on to the street; 
and I think I managed the furniture pretty well — in this 
room it is only hired, so far. I’m not a had housekeeper, 
I tell you, Kitty. What do you think of it all? ” 

He turned to her, his good-humoured face full of satis- 
faction and pleasure, and she, with a great effort, laid her 
hand on his arm in a sort of half caress, and roused her- 
self to speak brightly. 


32 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I think yon have taken a great deal of trouble for me, 
George dear,” she said, and it is only because I am so tired 
and sleepy that I can’t thank you properly — ^you know 
that?” . 

Of course I do,” said he, cheerfully, and he kissed her. 

I will try my very best to be a good wife; I am sure 
we shall get on well together.” 

Why, of course we shall,” said George; my dearest 
old child, don’t worry yourself. I am not at all hard to get 
on with, and I am sure you are not either.” 

It was all Christina could do to remain passive under 
his touch; to he responsive in the smallest degree was more 
than she could manage just yet. 

You don’t think me stiff, I hope? ” she said; I don’t 
want to be; hut it is such a long time since I saw you. And, 
somehow, don’t you think we have drifted a bit apart in 
our letters, though it was hard to help it? Didn’t you feel 
it so? ” 

She was trying with all her might to bridge over the 
gulf of strangeness which separated them, and the effort 
was to her a very apparent one; hut George did not seem 
to notice anything. 

He answered her question with a laugh. I can’t 
say I did. I thought your letters very nice, and I am sorry 
if mine weren’t, hut I’m a had hand at writing. Come, 
dearest old child, let me take off your hat, and we will go 
and sit in the drawing room.” 

Christina had the sensation of having received a very 
kindly given slap in the face. 

I am so giddy,” she said. 

Then you shall rest on the sofa, while I talk to you. 
What a sweet little woman you look, and what a lot I must 
make of my wife now I have got her at last! We ought to 
have a honeymoon, shouldn’t we? And instead of that 
I shall have to he on hoard ship most of to-morrow morn- 
ing.” 

^'Oh, must you?” 

“ I shan’t he a minute longer than I can help — you may 
he sure of that. And I daresay Mrs. White will come in 
and see you 

Christina started violently. Who did you say? ” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


33 


“ The people in the flat above. By the way, they must 
have come out with you. The Whites — ^very jolly if 
you are friends already.” 

Christina drew herself away from her husband abruptly, 
and sat down upon the bed. The only thing that suggested 
itself to her was to scream, and this was obviously unde- 
sirable. 

Oh,” she said, “ I am so tired; I must lie down for a 

bit.” 

George was distressed. 

‘‘ Of course you shall,” he said; “ I’ll stay with you, 
little woman.” 

But Christina felt that if he touched her again she. 
would laugh or cry, or do something absurd. 

Ohj please don’t! ” she pleaded, in a shaking voice. 

It is only after being on the sea; I feel so queer and giddy. 
It is horrid of me, but you won’t be offended, will you? 
If you would leave me alone for a little 

George looked decidedly disappointed, but he did not 
say much. 

He would leave her for an hour, and then bring her a 
cup of tea. It was nonsense to say she wanted nothing; 
she should not be allowed to starve. 

She was glad to be alone on any terms. 

He insisted on establishing her comfortably on the bed, 
and Christina felt that a refusal would be peevish and 
irrational. 

But when he left her she started up. 

What was she to do? The Wliites seemed somehow the 
last straw. 

Could she stand it all? 

Wild ideas came to her of escape to the Australia, to be 
carried away from Malta before George knew. There were 
people on board who had been very kind to her, but would 
they be equally kind when she explained that she had run 
away from her husband — because the Whites were friends 
of his? She began to laugh. Surely there must be some 
other reasons, but she could think of none, except that he 
talked loudly, and had lost a tooth at the left side of his 
mouth. And his clothes were badly made — ^there was no 
doubt about that. 


34 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


She must make up her mind at once, and Christina 
never could make up her mind. She had a vague idea that 
a separation might he possible if she went at once. 

She knew she was overstrained and overexcited, and 
not in a fit condition for judging; everything might look 
completely different to-morrow morning. 

She had often done foolish impulsive things on the 
spur of the moment, and been very sorry for them after- 
wards. 

But she could not wait till to-morrow morning to de- 
cide. 

Christina’s head became more and more confused. 
How could she escape even if she wanted to? George 
would be sure to hear her and meet her in the passage, and 
she certainly could not tell him she was going away; she 
had very little money, and all her boxes were in the fiat, and 
she was too tired. Besides, she would probably be very 
sorry for what she had done when it was too late. What 
she wanted was a little time, and that she could not have. 

Just at present she was too giddy and tired to mind 
much about anything. 

She lay back on the bed, and in five minutes she was 
dreaming that she was running away with all her strength, 
and that George and Miss White were pursuing her, while 
Captain Grant, in a deck chair, which though stationary 
never seemed to be left behind, was cheering her on. But 
always George and Miss White were gaining. 

Christina was shaking with such abject terror that she 
woke herself up, and George came in with a tray of hot tea 
and toast. 


CHAPTER YII. 

Chkistina awoke very late next morning. 

The shutters were open, and a watery sun was shining 
in through the French windows; there was a sound of 
much movement in the street and in the distance she could 
hear guard being relieved. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


35 


She had slept soundly, and awoke feeling fresher and * 
more cheerful. 

Christina was a young woman much given to enthusi- 
asms and impulses wise and foolish. She had done many 
rash things, none rasher than consenting to marry a man 
on a few weeks’ acquaintance, partly because she was dull 
and chiefly because he wanted it. 

She had been quite capable of a very decided step the 
night before, had not frequent repentance taught her to 
hesitate before giving way to an impulse which might 
possibly look quite different a few hours later. She had 
learned to distrust exceedingly her own hasty judgment. 

To leave everything behind her and escape from this 
stranger who was her husband, and who was not like any 
man she had ever been accustomed to meet, had seemed 
to her the one thing possible last night, but she was not 
surprised to find that her point of view had entirely changed 
this morning. 

She had no choice left — that was a comfort at least. 

And she would have no half measures; as she remained 
with George as his wife she would do her best to make him 
as happy as she possibly could. She must just concentrate 
her mind upon her own behaviour to him, and being, as she 
told herself, a person of one idea at a time, she hoped then 
to cease to notice the little things in his behaviour to her 
which had already jarred upon her. 

As for the Whites, was she a fool or a snob that she 
should object seriously to the Whites? They were not very 
fascinating on first acquaintance, but probably they had 
all sorts of good qualities. Very likely they had been ex- 
tremely kind to George, and certainly Mrs. White was most 
good-natured. 

Besides, was not Christina a sworn democrat? Had she 
not many and many a time insisted on her absolute indif- 
ference to birth, and had not even half her friendship for 
George at the beginning arisen from her indignation at a 
sneer of her father’s? 

And her father was wrong — most certainly he was 
wrong. George might be a trifle unpolished, but that 
would soon wear off, and as for his clothes, he could get a 
new suit, and then that would have been easily got over. 


36 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Caroline made her appearance by the time Christina 
had decided that every thing was for the best in this best 
of all possible worlds; she certainly offered an opportunity 
for the expenditure of any superfluous reforming energy. 
She was attired in a dirty red bodice, ending at least an inch 
before her skirt began, and giving a glimpse of uninviting 
undergarments, her red hair was wilder than ever, and her 
beaming face was black with smuts. 

The master had gone out, but would be back as soon as 
he could, and he had ordered her to bring ma’am some tea 
as soon as she woke. 

“ Now, a great many men would not have thought of 
that,” said Christina to herself; ‘‘ it just shows how good 
he is.” 

She had her breakfast in bed, and then she got up and 
dressed, in a resolutely cheerful frame of mind. It was 
delightful to put on entirely fresh clothes, and throw aside 
those she had worn on the voyage, which were tumbled 
and full of salt. 

She got out a dark, reddish, tailor-made dress, which 
suited her colourless, almost sallow face and light-brown 
hair. She was not pretty, but somehow she always looked 
well, and she dressed well. 

Among home troubles with the Lorimers want of money 
had been chronic, but it had never prevented them from 
having everything they wanted, and it would not even have 
entered Christina’s head to hesitate about getting a tailor- 
made frock when she felt inclined, or to have her evening 
dresses made anywhere but in Paris. 

She was nearly ready when Caroline again poked her 
head in at the door, without previous ceremony of knock- 
ing. 

Somebody come to see ma’am,” she said. Her English 
was plentiful, but not always correct. 

For a moment an absurd idea that Mr. Grant might 
have come to see her flashed hopefully through Christina’s 
head; then she realized its extreme unlikelihood. 

Two lady,” said Caroline. 

Well, show them into the drawing room,” said Chris- 
tina; I shall be ready in a minute.” 

When she went in she got a slight shock; her visitors 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


37 


were Mrs. and Miss White, looking more vulgar than 6ver, 
now that they were on shore. Mrs. White was very, very 
fat indeed, quite remarkably fat, and all her dresses looked 
as if they succeeded in remaining fastened by a miraculous 
effort, obviously so great an effort that it always made Chris- 
tina a little anxious. Periodically she had arrived on deck 
with her placket hole gaping open, and she was fond of sit- 
ting with her legs crossed, displaying an alarming amount 
of fat stocking and flannel petticoat. 

Miss White was tall and large-honed, with eyes whose 
expression Christina thought particularly disagreeable, a 
large, curved, thick-lipped mouth, and a very pronounced 
flgure. A certain class of men said she was ‘‘ very good 
sport; a girl with whom you needn’t mind in the least 
what you said and did.” 

Mrs. White got up from the sofa with an effort, and came 
to meet Christina effusively. 

My dear girl, it is delightful to And we shall he almost 
as near neighbours as we were on the Australia! It is too 
soon for a call and of course you are not settled, but I 
couldn’t pass your door without coming in. I thought 
you might be feeling a bit lonely. George is a dear friend 
of ours, not to say an old flame of Beatrice’s ” — Beatrice 
giggled — but you won’t be jealous of that, I hope.” 

There was much doubtfulness occasionally about Mrs. 
White’s h’s, but Christina could stand her better than her 
daughter, and made her answer as friendly as she could. 

It was very kind of you to come in,” she said, you 
will think me very lazy when I confess that I am only just 
up. Wasn’t it odd? I was splendidly well all the voyage, 
and as soon as I got ashore I felt quite seasick! ” 

It’s better to be ill on hoard and all right on shore, 
like Beatrice and me. However, you had a very good time 
on board, hadn’t you? ” 

But you needn’t he afraid that we shall tell Mr. Stod- 
dart! ” said Miss White, with much slyness in her manner. 

Christina stiffened promptly. 

Eeally ” she began and then stopped. What was 

the use of being annoyed? These people meant to be kind 
to her, and were George’s friends. If this was their idea 
of light and amusing conversation, it was not their fault. 


38 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


ought to have come to bring you out himself/^ 
said Mrs. White. 

Well, his ship recommissioned at Malta, and he was 
very glad of the chance of being appointed to the Daunt- 
less,^’ said Christina, resolved to be pleasant. 

She considered she had succeeded rather too well, when 
a little later Mrs. White invited her to go out with them. 
They had nothing to do but to go to the library, and could 
spend the rest of the morning in showing Mrs. Stoddart 
the town. They were fortunate in having their flats in the 
Strada Mezzodi, as they were within a few minutes walk of 
everything, and in an hour or so could show her a good 
deal. 

But the idea of walking the streets of Yaletta in com- 
pany with Mrs. and Miss White was not alluring, and Chris- 
tina declined with great promptitude and politeness. 

I think I must wait for George,” she said. 

Well, there are dozens of things you must see. Make 
him take you to the Marsa this afternoon — there’s a naval 
and military football match, and we might meet there and 
drive up to Yaletta together and have tea at Bizzazza’s,” 
said Mrs. White. Her suggestion was made good-naturedly, 
but was perhaps not entirely disinterested. 

Many a weary hour had she stood in the dust and wind, 
with nobody to talk to, and frequently not a chair to sit 
upon, when Beatrice required her attendance at a football 
match; if Mrs. Stoddart would enjoy herself, and have 
the name of chaperon as well, could anything be better or 
more satisfactory for everybody? 

I dare say we shall pick up some nice fellows at the 
Marsa, and make up a jolly tea party,” she suggested; and 
then I’ll leave them to you to chaperon, for fat old ladies 
are only in the way when young people get together.” 

Christina shuddered. 

“ Thanks very much,” she .said, but I don’t know 
what George’s plans may be.” 

“How you and George mustn’t behave like a newly 
married couple,” said Mrs. White, shaking her head re- 
provingly. “We won’t allow it, will we, Beatrice? And 
before we go, can I help you with your servants? Are they 
satisfactory? Would you like to come to market with me 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


39 


to-morrow? Take my advice, and go to market yourself, 
if your cook will allow you. He will cheat you well if you 
don’t. Take my word for it, my dear, every Maltese will 
do his best to cheat you; but I think I am pretty well 
up to their ways, so come to me whenever I can he of any 
use.” 

Christina would have promised anything in her joy 
at signs of departure on the part of the Whites. If it had 
not been for many misgivings in her mind, if they had not 
been George’s friends, she would have probably considered 
them rather curious and amusing. 

She went down the passage with them, and at the flat 
door they said good-by with much friendliness. 

“ You must come in to-morrow afternoon,” said Miss 
White; “it is Sunday, and lots of fellows always come. 
The girls here are all so unfriendly, hut I hope you and I 
will get on well.” 

“ They don’t like a girl to have more beaus than they 
have themselves,” said Mrs. White, gaily. 

“ They are angry if their particular man speaks to any 
other girl,” said Miss White. “I am sure I don’t know 
why. I am never jealous if my men amuse themselves with 
other girls. I always tell them to make themselves as pleas- 
ant as they can. Don’t you think the same, Mrs. Stod- 
dart? ” 

Christina felt she could bear no more. In her wildest 
dreams she had never imagined people quite like the Whites. 
The doctor’s wife and one or two of the farmers she had 
gone to see at home had been equally uncertain about their 
h’s, and had had accents equally strong, hut they had talked 
little and always been respectful. She had tried again and 
again to put them at their ease, but evidently, to judge by 
the Whites, had never succeeded. 

Just as the last words seemed to be really coming to an 
end, there was the click of a latchkey, and George opened 
the door. 

He was in uniform, which suited him better than plain 
clothes, and Christina looked at him with relief. 

The Whites were effusive, so effusive that she was con- 
vinced they would return to the drawing room and con- 
tinue their visit on the smallest hint. 


40 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


We have been making friends with your wife/^ said 
Mrs. White. I hope we shall he good neighbours. I have 
been telling her she mustn’t be jealous of Beatrice.” 

George laughed loudly. 

Oh no, Kitty won’t interfere with my old loves! ” he 

said. 

Miss White was highly delighted. 

Like your impertinence to call me an old love of 
yours! ” she said. 

And then George said she was one indeed, and if he 
hadn’t been married — with a glance at Christina. Where- 
upon Miss White slapped him, with an equally witty re- 
joinder, and every one was highly pleased. 

Christina listened dumbly, occasionally smiling faintly, 
and looking and feeling desperately out of place. 

Mrs. White, who was by no means unobservant, saw 
that all was not right, and suddenly summoned her daughter 
away, confiding to her outside the fiat that she was afraid 
Mrs. Stoddart was a little inclined to be jealous. 

“ They are very old friends,” said George. Miss White 
always chaffs me. Very good fun, isn’t she? ” 

He was quite sure the Whites had made the best pos- 
sible impression upon his wife. 

Then came lunch, during which Christina sat opposite 
to George, realizing that she must sit opposite to him for 
the rest of her natural life. 

He heaped up his plate with meat and vegetables, drank 
ale audibly, and used his toothpick without concealment. 
Then he tried to touch her foot with his under the table 
and she drew away sharply. A moment later she recog- 
nised her action as futile and foolish. She must accept 
gladly, joyfully, any sign of affection, anything that prom- 
ised to destroy the barrier of strangeness. George and she 
must live their lives together, and the better they could 
get on, the more she could cultivate a little blindness, a 
cheerful, matter-of-fact content, the better for her happi- 
ness as well as his. 

Besides, Christina had a strong sense of justice. She 
forced herself to see matters from her husband’s point of 
view; he had received her kindly and affectionately, and 
done what he could for her, and he had a right to expect 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


41 


that she on her part should take some trouble to please 
him. 

Luncheon was a decidedly cheerful meal. 

Caroline’s ideas of laying the table were elementary, 
and there was a rim of dirt round the pudding plates, which 
she made a wild effort to wipe off with her apron when it 
was pointed out to her. The cook came in to the dining 
room incontinently to explain angrily that he had nothing 
to do with the plates, which were Caroline’s concern. 

George said Christina would have to civilize the serv- 
ants, and they both laughed. 

Then they went into the drawing room, and he further 
explained his brilliant bargains over the furniture, and ex- 
hibited his canaries, which could, he declared, do almost 
anything but speak, and which had been a farewell gift 
from a sailor on his last ship. 

But one mistake he had made: the fireplace could by 
no means be persuaded to draw, and a fire was impossible. 

But it is not so very cold,” said George, contentedly. 

Christina did not like to say it was, and refrained from 
getting a shawl, which had been her first idea. 

We shall have a nice long afternoon,” he said; it is 
raining, so we can’t get out, and I don’t mind a bit — do 
you, old girl? ” 

^^Not a bit,” said Christina, cheerfully. want to 
have a talk with you very much.” 

That’s right,” said George; come and sit down, and 
we’ll have a confab.” 

Christina avoided his knee, and seated herself on the 
sofa beside him. 

She would soon know whether there was any hope that 
he and she would ever be closer together. 

George,” she began, I want to tell you something — • 
we mustn’t have any secrets. I have had one. I have often 
tried to tell you, but in the end I thought it better to wait 
till I saw you.” 

Christina began her confidences with a great effort. She 
was naturally outspoken — far too outspoken in fact, but 
when she wished she could keep silence, and she had proved 
it by keeping two secrets. One, her marriage to George, 
had been easy to keep, as it had faded into the background 


42 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of her mind during those three years and a half, and only 
been recalled by the letters, which had become shorter and 
less frequent as time went on. 

The other she had kept for George and had often looked 
forward to telling him, but she did not look forward to it 
now. He was very kind, but very unresponsive. 

In answer to her he laughed and said, “ Well, what is 
the secret, little one ? 

I want to tell you,” said Christina, flushing a little, 
and it is ridiculous to feel shy about telling you anything; 
but somehow, George, I do feel a little shy with you. In 
reality I know you so little.” 

am sorry for that,” said George, putting his arm 
round her, you mustn’t feel shy with me, young lady. I 
feel as if I knew my own wife pretty well.” 

She answered just a little impatiently. 

“ Oh yes, conventionally,” she said; but it is rather 
hard for a full-grown man and woman to be dashed at each 
other’s heads as we have been. Of course, we are husband 
and wife — ^but I know so little about you.” 

George was ever so little offended, and evidently con- 
sidered her completely unreasonable. 

My good girl,” he said, that really isn’t my fault. I 
am sure I have never tried to hide anything about myself 
from you. I have told you my people aren’t much to 
boast of, and that my relations are rather a shoppy lot on 
the whole. I should be very sorry for you to think I was 
ashamed of my relations.” 

It is not that in the least! ” Christina broke in hastily, 
I don’t mind what your relations are. What I mean is 
about you personally. I should like to know everything. 
Where you were born, where you lived when you were little, 
what school you went to ” 

George burst out laughing. 

What on earth do you want to know that for? Noth- 
ing ever happened to me at all exciting, or that could pos- 
sibly interest you.” 

Christina gave a short sigh. There was no good beat- 
ing about the bush any longer, or trying to make George 
into a fitter mood to receive confidences or herself more 
inclined to make them. Once, when she was a little girl. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


43 


she had in some way offended her governess. Christina 
had believed herself to be in the right, and had at first ob- 
stinately determined not to say she was sorry. But a second 
day of coldness on the part of her governess had destroyed 
that resolution; when another evening came and all her 
efforts for reconciliation were still repulsed, she could 
bear it no longer. 

It had been a very great effort indeed to her, and she 
had thought of it and dreamt of it, and fancied herself 
going to her governess and receiving her forgiveness, and 
feeling that Miss Reeves understood how sorry she was. 
She was trembling with excitement when she went to the 
school room, and full of the extreme importance of her 
mission. Christina could remember quite well how her 
broken words of repentance and contrition had been re- 
ceived. The governess said it was very easy to say she was 
sorry, but she must prove it by deeds not words before she 
could be forgiven. 

It gave Christina a sharp pang to remember her repulse 
even now, and the complete noncomprehension of the effort 
she had made. 

The whole scene flashed into her head as she sat beside 
George. 

Would he have any more comprehension? 

George,” she said, flushing, but speaking as lightly 
as she could, would you be very much surprised to hear 
that I write stories? ” 

He looked at her with affectionate amusement. 

“ My dear child,” he said, are you going to turn out 
an authoress on my hands? ” 

Christina went on hurriedly. 

It is quite true. Ever since I was a little thing I have 
had fancies, and, as I had nobody to tell them to, I began to 
write them down as soon as I could write. I never imagined 
they could be good — I just loved them myself. But after 
you married me, I began to think better of myself alto- 
gether. And one day a fancy came to me and I wrote it 
down, and it seemed to me really good, and a wild idea came 
into my head to send it off to a magazine.” 

Christina remembered with what anxious excitement 
she had packed up her story and sent it off in secret. 


44 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


She had told herself she expected nothing, but there 
were such enormous possibilities! It was 'possible that the 
editor might write, accepting her story with effusion and 
begging for more from such a genius. She never allowed 
herself to recognise this hope, which was in her mind all 
the same. 

But the editor did not do this. Instead, after an in- 
terval so long that she became convinced that her manu- 
script must be requiring much consideration, he sent it 
back to her, with printed regrets that it was unsuitable 
for his magazine. 

Then Christina, with her faculty for complete tem- 
porary discouragement, made no further attempt, neither 
wrote any other story for more than a year, when she hap- 
pened to find her old manuscript in a drawer, and it struck 
her as so unexpectedly good that she determined to try 
again. 

So the little story went off once more, to come back 
again and again. But Christina was older, she had been 
through a season in town, and had more or less found her 
level, and she was not so easily discouraged. 

At last it came back, with a few kind words of advice 
and appreciation instead of the usual printed lines. The 
idea was a good one and strongly written in parts, but the 
grammar and mode of expression were often defective, 
and the story was an awkward length and broken-backed 
in construction.” 

Christina felt a glow of gratitude to her unknown 
friend; he had taken the trouble to read her story, he had 
understood her, and he had helped her exceedingly. 

On this encouragement she recast her story entirely, 
she sent it off and it was accepted. 

After which she thought all her difficulties were over, 
and was disappointed to find her next story had to make 
almost as large a round before it found rest. 

Christina was not naturally persevering; she wanted 
to leap to success, and was always either wildly hopeful 
or completely discouraged. Many a time she resolved to 
make no further struggle and write no more, but then came 
an idea which must be written down, and there was always 
the hope that her last effort might bring her the sudden 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


45 


fame she dreamt of, and cause a sensation in the editor’s 
room by way of prelude to a sensation in the world. 

Once or twice she had tried to write a long story, hut in 
vain; her mood changed and a new idea came to her after 
a few chapters had been written. 

She had brought a story to show George, her last and 
also she hoped her strongest, and she had meant to tell him 
all about her hopes and struggles, but when it came to the 
point she could not. 

He took her youngest and most beloved child from her 
with such want of reverence, such want even of curiosity, 
that Christina would have liked to snatch its cherished 
pages away from him again. 

But she did not; she only said with hesitation that she 
hoped he did not mind her not having told him before, 
and George said no, he didn’t mind that. 

But to tell you the truth, Kitty,” he added, I 
shouldn’t like you to turn out a literary woman.” 

Believe me, they don’t all neglect their households 
and wear blue spectacles,” said Christina, bitterly. 

But she regained her good temper in a moment, and 
George said he would take the story on board ship with him 
next afternoon — she must remind him — but just at present 
he preferred to talk to her. 

Christina said that was all right, and was very cheerful ^ 
indeed, beginning to talk of something else at once. 

Later on they had several games of halma, and George 
showed Christina twenty-one different ways of playing 
patience. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The next day was Sunday. 

Christina, who had never had going to church presented 
to her as anything but an occasional function, would have 
preferred to spend the morning comfortably at home, but 
George was so evidently unprepared for this that she did 
not suggest it. 

4 


46 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


They went out, and climbed up ladders of steps and 
waded through white Malta mud, and bore, more or less 
patiently, a very long service and sermon. Christina had 
been accustomed to short chanted portions of the Prayer 
Book, in churches full of flowers and incense. She found 
the service intensely wearisome, but, discovering that a 
criticism on the sermon had evidently shocked her hus- 
band, she did not venture to say so. 

George brought her home by Strada Reale, through 
a crush of natives out for Sunday, and she was amused 
and enjoyed.it. They walked in the street, by way of get- 
ting less elbowed and knocked about, so she could only 
catch the very slightest glimpses of shop windows, in which 
she always took an interest. 

She saw an officer who had been on the Australia, stand- 
ing on the steps of the club, and gave him a pleased bow. 
But George hurried her on. 

“ That is the club,’’ he said. I don’t think it is very 
nice for a lady to look in.” 

Then he took her for ten minutes or so on the barracka, 
where Christina seated herself in an archway, and looked 
over the sunny Grand Harbour, with the fleet at anchor, to 
gray Fort St. Angelo on the other side, and felt, for the first 
time, a satisfaction with Malta as the place where she must 
live. 

The Dauntless was in dry dock, so George could not 
point her out, but he told Christina the names of all the 
other ships, and gave her a little naval information, look- 
ing tall and manly in his uniform, and they had a very 
pleasant ten minutes. 

After lunch he went to his ship, and he did not forget 
to take the story with him; Christina would not have re- 
minded him for worlds. 

She began the afternoon happily enough, wondering if 
Mr. Grant would turn up, but scarcely expecting him, though 
she realized that a talk with him would be very pleasant. 

But when George came back about five, to take her up 
to the Whites, he had not made his appearance. 

Christina felt just a trifle shy about meeting her hus- 
band. ^ She flushed a little when he came in, looking very 
attractive in her unusual timidity. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


47 


But George said nothing about the story. 

Are you ready to come upstairs? ” he said; I won’t 
be a second getting out of uniform.” 

Afterwards, when they came down from the Whites, 
it was time to dress for dinner. 

Christina dressed for dinner as instinctively as she 
dressed in the morning, and the night before George had 
dressed too. But to-night when she was ready he appeared 
without having changed his coat, with a coloured tie, and 
a pair of slippers very much down at heel. 

I hope you don’t want me to dress as if I was going to 
a dinner party every night? ” he said to Christina. I like 
to be comfortable in the evenings.” 

After dinner, when they were once more in the drawing 
room, he spoke to her abruptly. 

Christina,” he said,/^ I have read that story.” 

Christina looked at him, a question in her eyes. Then 
she looked away; he had dropped grease on his coat, and 
by way of being comfortable had unfastened his waist- 
coat and put up his slippered feet on the sofa. 

To tell you the truth,” he said slowly, I don’t like 
it at all. I don’t like the subject. It is not a lady’s sub- 
ject.” 

Christina was hurt, and to hide it she answered flip- 
pantly. 

My dear George, you are completely out of date! ” she 

said. 

Then she looked at him again, and said to herself, how 
could that man possibly understand? How could she have 
been such a fool as to show him her story? 

No lady should write on such a subject,” said George, 
trenchantly. Christina did not think she would have felt 
so jarred if he had said woman.” 

A story dealing with a divorced and guilty woman’s 
career is not one I shall either allow you to read or to 
write.” 

But it is only an episide in her life,” said Christina. 

It was one of the idea§ that came to me and worried me 
till I wrote it down. Can’t you imagine her misery when 
her daughter grew up, and found out? It seemed to me 
artistic and strong ” 


48 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


A lady’s writing has no business to be strong,” said 
George. “ It shocked me very much indeed, Christina.” 

“ And it does not seem to me that it is any more shock- 
ing than plenty of the statues and pictures in the Royal 
Academy and the Louvre,” said Christina, eagerly. No- 
body is shocked because they are so beautiful and so true. 
Not that I mean,” she added, flushing, “ that this is beau- 
tiful, or perhaps true; hut that is what I was thinking of 
— don’t you see what I mean? ” 

And then she thought to herself impatiently, how could 
she he such a fool as to talk like this to him? 

George did not understand what she was talking about, 
except that she seemed to him to be avoiding the point. 

But, Christina,” he said, how can you defend what 
you say on one page near the middle? Something about 
passion” — he turned over the pages hastily — “which — 
which I should he very sorry to see printed in a story with 
my wife’s name at the end.” 

Christina broke in eagerly: “ She says it — not I — can’t 
you see the difference ? By that time she has come to have 
thoughts of her own and to speak them. Her life, as I 
represented it, must have coarsened her.” 

George shook his head disapprovingly. 

“ And yet,” he said, “ you speak of her at the end — yes, 
I’ve got the place — as ^ essentially pure-minded and self- 
sacrificing,’ in fact, as a good woman.” 

“ So she was! She had voluntarily wrecked her own 
life to save Geoffrey, when his wife treated him so badly 
and he lost the power of his arm. Afterwards all her suffer- 
ing was for her daughter’s sake — she never thought of her- 
self! ” 

Christina argued eagerly, in defence of a woman who 
lived to her. 

“ It is not as if she had had a husband to leave,” she 
urged, “ and even then ” 

She stopped; by instinct, and even without looking at 
his face, she recognised that George and she were com- 
pletely out of touch. 

“ I am not going to argue the matter with you, old 
child,” he said, disapprovingly hut kindly; “ I don’t like 
your choice of subjects, and I have told you so.” 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


49 


I didn’t choose,” said Christina; the subjects come 
to me.” 

Well, if subjects like that come to you, you must have 
an unhealthy mind — that is all that I can say,” said George. 

Christina laughed. ‘‘You may be right there,” she 
said. “ I am papa’s own daughter, and a spice of wicked- 
ness attracts me.” 

Her earnestness, her honest anxiety to understand him 
and to make him understand her, was gone; he looked 
honestly, healthily shocked, and the impulse to tease him 
was too strong for her. 

But his next words made her earnest enough. 

“ Kitty,” he said, “ I want you to promise me not to 
write any more.” 

Christina jumped up from her chair. 

“Oh,” she said, “I canH! George, you don’t know 
what you are asking.” 

“ I am sure I don’t want to vex you,” said George. He 
caught her hand, and drew her down beside him again, 
rather as if she had been a petulant child. “ If you must 
write, though I would rather you didn’t, why not write 
for children? That is what a lady could do well, I am 
sure ” 

Christina interrupted him with an impatient exclama- 
tion. 

“ Oh, George! I couldn’t! Characters are born, and then 
they must go their own way and say their own say. I 
couldn’t make up my mind what I was going to write 
about.” 

“ It is not as if you needed to work for your living,” 
said George, “with your money and my pay we are very 
comfortably off. You are making me very unhappy and 
anxious.” 

“ Do you think my morals are shaky? ” said Christina, 
with a laugh. 

Then she looked at him, and was suddenly seized with 
compunction. 

He looked really puzzled and worried. 

“ I have no business to tease you, at anyrate,” she said; 
“ but don’t ask me to promise, George. It will be a great 
mistake.” 


50 McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 

Dimly she recognised that as things were he would be 
Yery unwise to take from her something that would fill 
her mind, and make her able to hear much. 

I have a right to ask something,” said George. If 
we are to he happy together, old girl, I must he able to ap- 
prove of you thoroughly.” 

‘^But what about me? Must I he able to approve of 
you thoroughly? ” thought Christina to herself. She won- 
dered, if she asked him, would he in return give up any- 
thing? Would he give up “ being comfortable ” in the 
evenings and dress for dinner? Would he try to speak 
and laugh less loudly, and to let her see less of the Whites? 

But she would make no conditions; if she must give 
up what she loved most in the world it should he without 
conditions. 

My darling little girl,” said George, for my sake, 
promise me never to write again.” He put his arm around 
her and kissed her. 

Christina had had very little love in her life. She 
thought George exceedingly foolish, hut she recognised 
that he was fond of her and kind to her. Never had he 
had a better chance of la3dng the foundation of a good 
honest affection between them than now, when he was 
asking for so great a sacrifice. 

Christina promised. 

He kissed her again. Thank you, dear,” he said. 

You have given up a little pleasure for me, and you shall 
have as much pleasure as I can give you to make up for it.” 

A little pleasure! 

The idea flashed into her head that a good story, with 
a cynical ending, might he made of their utter noncom- 
prehension. 

We must positively try to get a little firm ground on 
which we can both stand, between the different worlds 
we live in,” she said, and George looked at her in bewilder- 
ment. 

Then she drew a little closer to him, la3dng her cheek 
against his shoulder and turning white with the effort the 
caress cost her. 

^^Youffl he very kind to me, George, won’t you?” she 
said. I have nothing in the world hut you.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


61 


They had a reconciliation, which was perfectly satis- 
factory to George. 

It was from this day that Christina began dimly to recog- 
nise what her life would he hke. 

She began that week in an enthusiasm of virtue, wdiich 
for some time prevented her from being annoyed by any- 
thing George could say or do, or even unduly disappointed 
by the collapse of all her dreams of life at Malta. It was 
such a completely new thing for her to try to think of any- 
body’s happiness but her own, and so contrary to her whole 
bringing up, that there was a certain fascination in the 
experiment. 

George was exceedingly kind, and did his best for her 
amusement. 

He hated being alone himself, and consequently took 
pains never to leave Christina alone; if he had to be away 
he always managed, if possible, to have the Whites to re- 
place him. It was useless for her to declare that if he could 
not be with her she would infinitely prefer to be by her- 
self. 

Her efforts to gently modify him were no more suc- 
cessful. She tried to create a reform in his clothes and to 
persuade him to shave his beard, but she found him not 
easy to influence. 

He assured her laughingly that if she did not like him 
with his beard she would like him still less without, and 
that the brown tail-coat to which she took exception was 
a particular favourite of his. 

Christina was patient, with a patience born of the in- 
ward conviction that nothing she could do would make 
him as she wished him to be. 

She was more successful with Caroline’s clothes, though 
she waged a daily battle over caps, which Caroline could 
not be restrained from tearing off the moment she was out 
of sight, thereby adorning them with many marks of dirty 
fingers. Caroline was friendly, not to say familiar, in her 
manner, and absolutely indifferent to dust and untidiness. 
If called in to be remonstrated with, she invariably at first 
drew up a chair beside her mistress, cheerfully prepared 
to discuss the matter, and very much entertained by her 
own negligence. 


52 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


The cook was not much in evidence, except when Caro- 
line and he quarrelled, which was frequently. Christina 
went to the market once, and was amused, but afterward 
she found it was too much of a good thing to get up so early, 
and the cook highly approved of her staying at home. 
Once or twice she tried to order the dinner, hut she knew 
no Maltese, and he no comprehensible English, so he list- 
ened and then arranged the dinner to please himself, and 
certainly he knew more about it than Christina, to whom 
food and attendance had hitherto come with as little need 
of interference on her part as the air she breathed. 

But she was active and energetic and enjoyed the 
change. 

She was out nearly all day. 

She liked the Strada Reale, where there was always a 
certain amount of bustle and movement; she liked bargain- 
ing at the Indian shops immensely. The Whites liked 
this, too, when they had not to pay, so it suited everybody 
except George, who became anxious beyond concealment 
about the screens and rugs and silver ornaments in which 
Christina invested, and her utter indifference to bills. 

“ They won’t want to be paid for ages,” she said, lightly; 
don’t you like hills, George? I have been brought up 
never to pay ready money.” 

But before ten days had passed she had ceased to care 
for the Indian shops. 

She joined the library. George never opened a hook, 
but she could not exist without some kind of literature, 
and, besides, the reading rooms were a pleasant lounge. 

She persuaded her husband to take a weekly box at the 
opera. There was only one left, and it turned out to be 
high up, almost out of sight and hearing, so in the end she 
would not go there, and preferred to take occasional stalls, 
which George not unnaturally considered useless extrava- 
gance. 

She tried to get him to join the Golf Club, and sug- 
gested the purchase of a pony, but after one drive with him 
in a hired dog-cart she withdrew her request. 

Before they started Christina had been convinced that 
the driving of a four-in-hand would be but as child’s play 
to George; when they came back she would have hesitated 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


53 


to trust herself with him behind a Shetland pony! They 
narrowly escaped numerous accidents, got jammed in a 
string of carrozzes at the Porte Reale, and collided with 
a go-cart full of natives at Floriane. Then they met the 
Tandem Club, and got wound up between the leader and 
wheeler of the first tandem. 

George said angrily that a fellow ought not to be allowed 
to take out a tandem when he couldnT drive, and at the 
next narrow escape he lost his temper, and roundly abused 
the drivers of all carrozzes with which he came in contact. 

“ Those chaps can’t drive in the least,” he told Christina 
many times, ‘‘ their one idea is to gallop straight on as 
hard as they can, no matter what is in the way.” 

But henceforth Christina preferred the most recklessly 
driven carrozze to a dog-cart with George. 

Nothing had begun as yet in the way of gaiety^ and it 
was too cold for expeditions. They wrote their names at 
the admiral’s and at the palace, one afternoon, and on other 
days there were generally calls to return, and George loved 
paying calls. 

Christina was thrown entirely upon the society of his 
friends, and before the end of the first week she had dis- 
covered the difference between a lieutenant and an engineer 
in her Majesty’s navy. 

George’s friends were very kind; they visited her fre- 
quently and informally, were anxious to help her in any 
way they could, and never met her without inviting her 
to come and see them. It was chiefly real hearty kindness, 
and if there was a certain satisfaction to them in the knowl- 
edge that her father was the son and brother of a marquis, 
the satisfaction was shared by George, who put himself 
to some trouble to let everybody casually know the fact. 

Christina sometimes hated her visitors one and all with 
a very thorough hatred; sometimes she found them inex- 
pressibly amusing, had there only been somebody to share 
her amusement. 


54 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Up, Jenkins! 

“ It wasn’t your turn to call at all.” 

I am quite sure the sixpence is in Mrs. Stoddart’s 
left hand.” 

And I am positive it isn’t. I heard a distinct jingle 
at this end of the table.” 

The Whites were having an evening party. Their flat 
had been turned completely upside down for the occasion; 
the drawing room and dining room had been prepared for 
the reception of the guests, and Mrs. White’s bedroom was 
arranged for refreshments. Christina had come upstairs 
to join the festive throng, leaving behind her a flat almost 
completely destitute of furniture. The Whites had bor- 
rowed everything — from the cook to the drawing-room 
screens and the silver salt-cellars. 

Christina had not minded lending; she knew they 
would have been equally ready to lend in their turn. She 
did not even mind having to go to their party so much as 
she had expected. 

The evenings with George were so very dull. They 
played halma or backgammon; sometimes, but not often, 
she was allowed to read, while George solemnly played pa- 
tience by himself, calling upon her every now and then 
to look and admire. 

The evenings were the worst part of the day, but the 
afternoons after dark were bad enough. 

Sometimes she felt as if she could not keep her promise 
to George. The fever of writing came upon her, and stories 
flashed into her head. 

But always she stopped herself by the thought that he 
was so kind to her, and so good. It was the thought of his 
goodness that controlled her. He was so particular about 
all she said and did,, he was so strict in all religious duties, 
and he was so shocked at laxities of every kind. While 
he jarred upon her constantly, she felt that she respected 
his character, and resolutely kept it before her. 

But still, life with him was very dull, and this dulness 
had made the prospect of the Whites’ party not so appalling. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


55 


Mr. White had stipulated that the evening should begin 
with cards, rather to the annoyance of his wife and 
daughter, who considered that it broke up the party; how- 
ever, they had given in, and, having exacted a promise 
that after supper they should be free to do as they liked, 
had arranged to have supper early. 

Christina had left her form of amusement to be decided 
by fate, and had been seized upon by a festive party to play 
up, J enkins.^^ 

In the dining room another game was going on. 

Miss White was the only girl who was not playing; she 
had said there were enough without her, and had then re- 
tired to the balcony with a handsome Mr. Taylor in the 
commissariat, who looked like a gentleman. 

Two officers, who had come either by mistake or against 
their will, were lounging against the wall, refusing to play 
games or to do more than answer if they were addressed. 
Mrs. White’s hospitable soul was distressed about them, 
and Christina inwardly agreed with George’s vehement ob- 
servation that they ought to he spanked! ” 

She wondered if they had heard the remark, as it had 
floated over to her from the nap-tahle quite distinctly. 

She was by no means enjoying herself madly. She was 
sitting next a man who stuttered dreadfully, and appeared 
to think it part of the game that every time their hands 
went under the table he should seize Christina’s in his, 
which was exceedingly hot and clammy. 

She furtively rubbed her fingers now and then with 
her handkerchief, and was very nearly driven to doing it 
openly. 

The rest of the party consisted of girls with enormous 
fringes and men in very badly cut evening coats. They 
talked at the top of their voices, without modulation, and 
laughed vehemently. 

There was a girl opposite Christina in a washed-out 
muslin, with a narrow blue ribbon sash, and a formation 
at the back of the skirt, which suggested that it might have 
been originally worn with a hustle. She wore on her head 
a wreath of roses, palpably artificial, and had some to match 
round the front of her dress, which was cut low. Yellow 
gloves and white satin slippers completed her costume, and 


56 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Christina considered her quite the most remarkably dressed 
girl in the room, and longed to take her and brush her hair, 
remove her gloves and her roses, and give her a pair of 
black shoes. 

Christina heaved a sigh of relief when Mrs. White an- 
nounced that games were to stop, and that it was time for 
supper. She executed a strategic movement which placed 
a group of people between her and her late neighbour with 
the stutter. 

The nap-players were collecting counters and paying 
up pennies. George and Mr. White were both a trifle 
cross; they were the only people who had played in earnest; 
the others had viewed the game as a huge joke, and had 
laughed at everything, giggling over their own mistakes 
and their success or failure. 

George was fuming over the last round as he paid out 
his pennies. 

certainly ought to have made my four that time,” 
he said, indignantly. You played according to no rules 
at all, Mrs. White; the seven of clubs was a most extraordi- 
nary card to play when you had the king in your hand! 
You couldn’t' tell that Mrs. Williams had the ace.” 

It was just a mistake,” said Mrs. White, her fat person 
shaking with laughter, “but it answered very well you 
must allow, George. Dear, dear, the luck’s against you 
to-day.” 

Mr. White muttered something about the impossi- 
bility of playing with some people. He, too, had been un- 
lucky. 

“ I am making up for the eightpence I lost the day we 
played at your house, Mrs. Williams,” said Mrs. White; 
“ not a thing could I get the whole evening but sevens and 
eights — everything under seven had been put out, so I 
couldn’t get anything lower. And the only time I got a 
decent hand, it was a misdeal! ” 

Christina shuddered. Were these social parties of fre- 
quent occurrence? 

George was collecting the cards he had held to prove 
that he ought to have won his four, which he did, quite 
satisfactorily to himself, after a good deal of dispute as to 
what the others had and had not played. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


57 


He could hardly be torn away for what Mrs. White 
called refreshments.” 

Christina rejoiced in this break in the evening. 

“ Up, Jenkins ” had merged into consequences,” which 
was proving an inexhaustible form of amusement, and the 
girl in the washed-out muslin had Just read out, amid 
shrieks of laughter, that “ Mrs. Stoddart ” had met “ Mr. 
Taylor ” in the dark.” He gave her a kiss.” She gave 
him ‘‘ a box on the ears.” The consequences were an 
elopement,” and the world said they were a couple of 
fools.” 

Christina was torn away without difficulty from this 
exciting pastime. 

She chose a seat a little by herself; George’s friends 
did not appreciate her very much; some of them were 
afraid of her, and some of them thought her dull, though 
they all admired her. 

Next to her was an old lady in a terrible kind of turban 
with a purple how in front, who had spread a handkerchief 
on her knee in preparation, hut had as yet only succeeded 
in securing a glass of lemonade; she was talking of herself 
as a favoured guest at the palace. 

I don’t care to go there on Thursdays when there is 
a crowd,” she said; ‘‘ what I like is to have a pleasant chat 
with Lady Smyth all to myself. She is such a delightful 
person when one knows her intimately 

A small middy at Christina’s elbow, so small and so 
recently a middy as to he almost a naval cadet, began to 
favour her with a certain amount of attention. 

He found this sort of show, he said, rather a bore, but 
one had to go. He preferred dinners; one could get a 
girl to oneself — no other fellows to interfere. But mar- 
ried women were the best fun; they were more up to a 
Joke, and not so easily shocked. 

Mrs. White bustled about everywhere, piling up the 
plates of her guests with chicken and Jelly, and really 
distressed by the insufficiency of their appetites. 

Now, Mrs. Stoddart, you must let me give you a hit 
more -trifle. Now, you must, dear; you have had nothing 
yet — nothing. Maybe, though, you don’t fancy the trifle? 
I made it myself and it should he good, hut very likely it 


58 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


is a different kind of jam you like in it or there isn’t enough 
wine? There’s nothing else you could fancy? I should 
have sent down to ask what you liked.” 

Mrs. White’s hospitable soul was so rent that Christina 
had to hastily profess a keen desire for more trifle. 

Miss White, having amused herself during supper by 
stealing bits of chicken and salad from Mr. Taylor’s plate 
when he was not looking, replacing his glass of whisky 
and soda by one of lemonade, and similar good jokes, had 
now again retired into a corner with him, after a faint re- 
sistance on his part. 

The man with a stutter sang a song remarkably well, 
and a couple of girls played a duet remarkably badly. 

By this time everybody had flnished supper and George 
came to the front for another game. 

Now, good people,” he said, you have all got to play 
the feather game. Mrs. White, we must have a sheet, if 
you please.” 

Somebody suggested an ignorance of the game and an 
inclination to sit and watch, but George would have no 
defaulters. 

There is nothing whatever to do, except sit on the 
floor and blow,” he said, impatiently. 

You won’t ask me to sit on the floor, George, surely,” 
said Mrs. White. I might never get up again, and I don’t 
believe the floor would stand it.” 

But the master of the ceremonies self-constituted was 
not overcome by her delighted remonstances, and she was 
half persuaded, half forced, to seat herself on the carpet 
amid shrieks of merriment. 

Mr. Stoddart is splendid at setting things going,” 
said Mrs. Williams; "Mt’s a great pity he’s married; we 
should have had all the girls setting their caps at him. 
But you have stolen a march upon them, Mrs. Stod- 
dart.” 

Mrs. Stoddart did not feel so exhilarated by the compli- 
ment as might have been expected. 

It was nearly two o’clock before the Stoddarts found 
themselves at the door of their flat. One game had fol- 
lowed another, and George had enjoyed himself so thor- 
oughly and with such intense excitement over everything. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


59 


that Christina had found it impossible to persuade him 
to make a move. 

She had been amused at first, and then increasingly 
bored. She had not been allowed to sit still and quiet for 
an instant; George, with the kindest intentions, had in- 
sisted that she should play everything. 

Now he was in such wild spirits that she felt it would 
he cruel not to make an effort to he enthusiastic too. 

I enjoyed myself immensely. I don’t know when I 
have spent a jollier evening,” he said. Wouldn’t it he 
a good plan if we were to have something of the same kind? 
Just a few jolly friendly fellows and nice girls with no 
nonsense about them.” 

No nonsense about them, certainly, Christina thought. 
One girl had had her dress half torn oft' her hack at musical 
chairs, and had only laughed, and at cat-and-mouse another 
had had her hair pulled right down and had gone on play- 
ing all the same. 

“ I should have liked a little more singing,” she sug- 
gested, mildly. 

“ Oh, I don’t know — that is all very well, but I like 
something lively,” said George. That fellow Smith sings 
well, doesn’t he?” 

Indeed he does,” said Christina, and he talks badly. 
He can’t bear to be silent, and he takes about an hour to 
say every second word. If I were he, I should sing always. 
He could easily chant his speeches.” 

George laughed loudly as he fumbled for his latchkey. 


CHAPTER X. 

Are you ready, Kitty? How smart you look! That 
brown straw hat with roses suits you down to the ground.” 

Quite ready,” said Christina. I have got a very 
correct sunshade to go with this dress, but on the whole 
I think it will be safer to take an umbrella.” 

It was a fine afternoon, and she had put on a very smart 


60 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


gray and pink dress with a good deal of lace about it, which 
she had never worn before; she knew her hat was becom- 
ing, and she was in excellent spirits. 

ITl go up and tell the Whites,” said George. 

They were going to the races, and Christina loved races. 
She was in too good spirits to be depressed by the knowl- 
edge that the Whites were going with them. Mr. White, 
a stout little engineer, could never be persuaded to go any- 
where, and George, who was very good-natured, said it 
would not be so pleasant for the Whites to go without a 
gentleman, and besides it would be jollier to make a party. 

Christina did not even remonstrate. 

After her usual fashion she was exhilarated by the 
thought that something amazingly delightful might hap- 
pen on this her first introduction to Malta society — why 
not? 

She knew so many people, surely there was a good 
chance that she might meet some one she had met before. 
People constantly went out to Malta for the winter. 

And then there was Mr. Grant. She had caught a 
glimpse of him once in a shop in Strada Reale, but he had 
not seen her, and he had not called, neither invited her to 
tea on guard, or offered her his pony. 

But no doubt he thought it better that they should 
meet again first, and perhaps that he should be introduced 
to her husband. 

Oh, undoubtedly Christina was going to have a good 
afternoon. 

The Whites appeared, Mrs. White looking prodigious 
in a black cotton-backed satin, rather the worse for the 
wear, and a red velvet bonnet. Her daughter had an ex- 
tremely badly made red dress, with a white, fiy-away straw 
hat, suitable neither to the day nor to the dress, and made 
to match by the addition of a bit of red ribbon, evidently 
an afterthought. 

Malta carrozzes only hold four by courtesy. George 
sat on the extreme edge of the seat, with his feet on the 
step, and the others managed as best they could. He and 
Miss White were very jovial on the way down to the Marsa. 

It was not a pretty drive. Christina had already begun 
to hate the dull half mile between the Porte Reale and the 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


61 


outer gate, which must he passed to get anywhere. Out- 
side the Porte Reale there were rocky, desolate-looking 
hillocks on one side, with an occasional goat trying to find 
something to eat, and on the other the Floriane barracks, 
with an intermittent sort of football going on in the square. 
A train, sauntering along to the right after the peculiarly 
easy-going fashion of Malta trains, startled Christina by 
an incontinent whistle, as she was trying to catch a glimpse 
of the Grand Harbour round Mrs. White’s stout person. 

The rest of the way was little else hut walls, both be- 
fore they had rattled through the arch of the outer gate 
and afterwards. 

But there were plenty of carriages to brighten up the 
road, all full of English people, and all going in the same 
direction. 

There were carrozzes full of girls in smart frocks, and 
others crammed with officers, chiefiy in racing kit. There 
were numerous dogcarts, a few tandems, and an occasional 
rider, all evidently upon pleasure bent, and Christina’s 
spirits rose momentarily. She had driven down to the 
Marsa with George one day a week before, and been shown 
the polo ground, and the football ground, and the inclosure 
for race meetings, but to-day it looked much more alive. 

The stretch of barren land was as desolate as ever, hut 
in the foreground there were carriages innumerable and 
an inclosure full of people, while Christina could see in 
the distance the little group of horses at the starting point, 
and the bright coats of their riders. 

There was a crowd already in the grand stand and in- 
closure, though the second race was only about to start. 
Punctuality was evidently the fashion, and the first race 
meeting of the season, combined with a good afternoon, 
had brought out all Malta. 

Christina looked round as they came in for some familiar 
face, hut she saw nobody she knew just at first. There was 
the inevitable group of men round the fountain in the mid- 
dle of the inclosure, where thev made their bets and had 
a good view of every newcomer. The Stoddart party had 
not time to get themselves a place by the railing to see 
the second race, and indeed nobody hut Christina seemed 
particularly anxious to see it. Instead, George pointed 
5 


62 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


out everybody he could think of to her: the general, the 
admiral, the captain of the Dauntless, and various other 
celebrities. 

Then, having done his duty, and having introduced 
several men to his wife, he went off with Miss White. He 
was very fond and proud of Christina, but he and she had 
nothing to say when they were together, and he and Miss 
White had always plenty of jokes in common. He had got 
chairs by the railings for both Mrs. White and his wife, 
but Christina preferred to stand, and waited for the next 
race, talking languidly to an assistant engineer and a middy 
from the Dauntless. The engineer was inclined to admire 
her and exerted himself to be agreeable. He did not know 
anything about racing, and had been in Malta only a few 
weeks longer than Christina, but he did his best to give her 
information nevertheless. 

She found by her programme that McLeod was riding 
in several races, and would have liked to back him as a 
fellow-traveller, but George had made her promise not 
to bet. 

Christina had been taken to her first race meeting 
when she was six years old, and had won several sovereigns 
to spend in sweets and toys, and some tiny pairs of gloves, 
and though she honestly tried to see from his point of view 
when he told her that a lady ought not to bet, she could 
not. 

The riders in the second race began to straggle out of 
the paddock. Her companions pointed out to her one or 
two naval men, and then came McLeod on a beautiful 
little chestnut pony, which bucked and reared, half wild 
with excitement, and completely refused to turn to the 
starting point. McLeod looked well on horseback; he 
sat very quiet and at his ease, completely indifferent to 
the crowded audience before which his pony had chosen 
to perform. A moment later a groom came up and led the 
pony gently in the right direction, after which it went off 
quite quietly. 

Captain McLeod’s Nur-el-din, brown, yellow sash and 
cap,” Christina read from her programme. He’s the only 
man I know riding, and I should like to back him with 
something more substantial than wishes! ” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


63 


Just at that moment she saw Grant and another man 
come into the inclosure. They went straight over to the 
pari-mutuel, and he did not see her, but her spirits leaped 
up. Oh, for half an hour completely away from George 
and George’s friends! 

There had been some difficulty over the start; Nur- 
el-din had persistently declined to get into line; but at 
last they were off, and for a few minutes Christina forgot 
all about Grant and George too. 

Then ISTur-el-din’s name shot up on the hoard opposite 
the figure 1, and she was pleased. Some man came up and 
asked her to have tea. Christina supposed he was a friend 
of George’s, but had not yet «ven made an effort to distin- 
guish one man he introduced to her from another. 

She went with him to escape from her engineer, who 
was growing monotonous, and in the tea tent she came face 
to face with Grant, who was catering for a couple of very 
pretty, well-dressed girls. 

He returned her smile and raised his cap, hut he passed 
on at once, and Miss White and George came up and joined 
them, George standing about, looking as if he was patron 
of the whole race meeting, and making himself loudly 
agreeable to everybody he knew, after a fashion which 
unreasonably annoyed his wife. 

That was almost all Christina saw of Mr. Grant during 
the afternoon. She expected him to come and speak 
to her momentarily at first, then she was surprised, then 
angry, and at last decided despairingly that this was an 
omen that she was fated to associate with George’s friends, 
and only George’s friends, for the rest of her natural 
life. 

Once, going up the steps of the grand stand, they passed 
quite near Grant, and George remarked: I thought you 
said Grant of the Camerons was a great friend of yours. 
You haven’t seen much of him to-day, have you? ” 

Christina laughed. I knew him pretty well,” she said, 
but we matrons must go to the wall when there is a girl 
in the case.” 

^^Yes, he does seem to he making the running with 
Lady Eva Wrench.” 

‘^One of the Wrenches, is she?” said Christina. She 


64 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


knew the name very well, and had often been to stay with 
a family of Wrench cousins. 

How delightful it would be if Grant were to bring up 
Lady Eva and introduce her, and what an immensity Chris- 
tina and she could find to talk about! But he had no 
intention of doing anything of the kind. 

Nearly at the end of the afternoon Christina met him 
and McLeod absolutely face to face, and they both shook 
hands with her. 

How do you do ? ” said Mr. Grant at once. What 
do you think of Malta? You are lucky to get a day like 
this for your introduction to the Marsa. This place is con- 
sidered the deathtrap of Malta.” 

I have spent a very pleasant afternoon in it at any- 
rate,” said Christina. I must congratulate you several 
times over. Captain McLeod. I always gave you my best 
wishes in memory of the Australia.” 

“ Well, I must be off,” said Grant. “ Sorry I haven’t 
been able to call yet, Mrs. Stoddart. I have been awfully 
busy.” 

Then they both passed on. 

McLeod said, Have you and Mrs. Stoddart quarrelled, 
Tommy? ” 

Grant was astonished. Great Scott, no! ” he said. 

I like the girl herself very much, but I don’t want to get 
mixed up with the Man-eater’s set. I must go and call 
some day, I suppose, though it is only a case of ship ac- 
quaintance.” 

Eh? ” said McLeod. What’s that? You’d he happy 
to meet Mrs. Stoddart again — on the Australia: that sort 
of thing? ” 

“ She’s as smart a girl as any here; but her friends — 
0 Lord! And I can’t stand Stoddart’s appearance. I must 
be off; I am going to drive into Valetta with the Wrenches. 
Shall you be in? I shall be at the club before six, and we 
might go out to Pembroke together.” 

Thanks, no. I am going straight back from here 
with Seton-Kerr.” 

Grant went off, and McLeod stood still where he was 
and looked at Christina. 

She was standing by the railing, a little aloof from a 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


65 


group with George and Miss White in the centre of it, and 
she looked suddenly very tired and depressed. 

The afternoon had been so disappointing, and seemed 
such a type of what she might expect in future. Would 
people be different to her now, and would she only he wel- 
come among George’s friends? It was positively the first 
time such an idea had presented itself to her. 

McLeod looked at her and then at her husband, and re- 
membering what Grant had told him of her story, he under- 
stood pretty well what she was feeling. 

Grant had not meant any unkindness; he had simply, 
as usual, done what for the moment seemed to him pleas- 
antest, and if he had seen Christina admired and sought 
after, doubtless it would have seemed most pleasant to 
him to act differently. 

But McLeod made up his mind to go and speak to her 
with a sudden impulse of real pity. 

He was not to ride in this last race, and had been medi- 
tating going to change his racing kit, but instead he went 
across to where Christina was standing, with a very friendly 
look on his grave face. 

Hers lighted up in glad welcome of him, in memory 
of that pleasant voyage, when she had been very happy, 
and was looking forward to an ideal life with George. 

He asked her how she liked Malta by way of opening 
the conversation, and then he remembered that Grant had 
said the same thing; but this time Christina’s answer burst 
out with unconventional eagerness. 

I hate it! ” she said. 

“ Why,” said McLeod; I thought it was just the place 
ladies ought to like ” 

Christina interrupted him impatiently: For good- 

ness’ sake, don’t talk to me about what ladies ought to like! 
In charity speak to me as if I was a man — or a dog! Swear 
at me if you want, by way of being realistic! ” 

McLeod had a pleasant laugh — a gentleman’s laugh, 
Christina said to herself with intense satisfaction. 

I frequently talk to men and dogs without swearing 
at them,” he said. “ Will you come and have a whisky and 
soda then, or is it possible you might be content with tea? ” 
Oh, yes, thanks! ” said Christina; “ I have been to 


66 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


tea twice, but this is the first time I shall enjoy it. Let’s go 
to a table as far away as ever we can — where we can’t even 
see the Whites! ” 

She dimly felt her greeting was quite disproportioned 
to the extent of her acquaintance with Captain McLeod. 
She was greeting him not as an individual, but as a class. 

When they found a desirable table she seated herself 
with a long sigh of relief. 

The Whites are on the fiat above us. They are my 
husband’s friends, and I have to be civil. Sometimes they 
set my teeth on edge, and sometimes I don’t seem to notice 
quite so much, and have a horrible idea that if it goes on 
I shall get like them. Don’t you understand? ” 

McLeod nodded; he never unduly wasted words. 

“ I know I am ridiculously adaptable. Am I gushing 
to you? Put it down to Miss White’s infiuence. Is this 
an ill-natured speech? Put it down to — — ” 

Christina stopped suddenly, and ended in a different 
tone: “But the foolishness of speaking like this is quite 
my own. I always say the first thing that comes into my 
head, and am always sorry when I have said it.” 

“ You make yourself out a sort of moral chameleon,” 
said McLeod, offering her macaroons. 

“ Well, just at this moment it seems perfectly right 
and natural to talk to you as if you were my brother, but 
of course that is only the crooked sort of way I have of look- 
ing at things, and by this evening I shall probably be as 
much astonished at myself as you can be.” 

“ I suppose everybody’s point of view changes,” said 
McLeod, “ though I can’t say mine whisks about as yours 
seems to do. The only thing to be done is to go straight 
on as far as one can see.” 

Then he suddenly became conscious that he was speak- 
ing very seriously, and changed the subject by asking what 
Christina had been doing with herself since coming to 
Malta. 

“ I have been walking Strada Eeale, having tea with 
Miss White and ^ some fellows,’ as we call men in our fiats, 
and going to church in a kind of a barn and listening to 
the longest service you can imagine. By a wild flight of 
fancy I can imagine myself beating a drum in the Salva- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


67 


tion Army, but never, never, can I see myself going to that 
church if I could avoid it. You are a Roman Catholic, 
aren’t you? ” 

McLeod nodded. “ Would you like to go to mass at 
St. John’s some day?” he said; “or. I’ll tell you what; 
get your husband to take you to the soldiers’ church on the 
barracka. You would like that I am sure; it is a very 
hearty service.” 

“I’ll ask George to take me,” said Christina. “He’s 
awfully good, you know,” she added with sudden compunc- 
tion. “ I have been vilely brought up, and he’s trying to 
reform me. This is the first race meeting I have ever been 
to in my life without making or losing, a little money.” 

“ I must say I don’t like a lady to bet,” said McLeod, 
gravely. 

Christina looked pleased. “Don’t you?” she said. 
“ I am awfully glad you don’t. I can’t make out why it 
is worse than for a man myself, but I am very glad you 
think George is right. I am beginning to find there are 
such a lot of things George thinks I ought not to do, and 
all the things I like best,” she added with a sigh; “ but 
he is very good.” 

McLeod was sorry for her. By way of present conso- 
lation he took her to the paddock and showed her his ponies. 
Nur-el-din looked perfectly conscious of having distin- 
guished himself; he arched his pretty chestnut neck, and 
made playful snatches at his master’s coat. Tommy III was 
a stout little iron-gray animal, whose forte lay in the polo 
field, not on the race course; he could check himself and 
turn more quickly than any pony in Malta, McLeod ex- 
plained, and enjoyed polo thoroughly, but he completely 
declined to exert himself in a race. Bairam, his third pony, 
was by no means beautiful to look upon, and was chiefly 
distinguished by a remarkable capacity for kicking and 
biting and a crooked temper; but his master had a good 
word for him as well, in praise of his speed and endurance. 

Christina was as happy in the paddock as McLeod was, 
perhaps all the more so for a wild idea which flashed into 
her head that perhaps George might not consider such an 
interest in horses fitting for a lady. 

They met him as they came back into the inclosure, 


68 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


bustling about making himself generally useful. He was 
just insisting, with the kindest intentions, that a whole 
family of his acquaintance would allow him to call a car- 
riage for them, and not wait for the last race, as their dresses 
were light and it was growing decidedly chilly. He had 
almost conquered by dint of perseverance, and strongly 
against the will of the whole party, who were not feelipg 
in the least cold and wanted to see the race, when he caught 
sight of McLeod and Christina, and relaxed his efforts. 

I must at least insist on your putting on this cloak 
of my wife’s,” they heard him say; “ she has a warm dress, 
and I assure you. Miss Lancey, you don’t know how dan- 
gerous the wind is here.” 

Then he came across to the other two, his hat a trifle 
on one side, his good-natured face very hot and red, and his 
clothes so very badly made. 

He was most civil to McLeod; hoped he would come 
and see them any afternoon he liked, and then they would 
settle a day for him to come to lunch or to tea on the Daunt- 
less. 

Christina remarked to herself that he had used Mc- 
Leod’s name three times in as many sentences, and that 
he had been quite unnecessarily cordial. Then she re- 
proved herself for looking out for things to disapprove 
of instead of tr}dng to shut her eyes. 

McLeod thanked him, and Christina felt persuaded 
he had not the smallest intention of calling. 

I hardly ever come in to Valetta,” he said. I am 
trying to get our boat team into form, and it takes all I 
know to get them to practice; and then there’s polo and 
football, and my company is going to begin field training 
almost immediately.” 

Then he said good-by, and George remarked he was 
a nice, gentlemanly chap, and asked if he wasn’t the honour- 
able? 

hTot that those courtesy titles count for much,” he 
added, loftily. 

Christina had a little wonder to herself, as they drove 
home, if she would have preferred George to be thoroughly 
wicked and a gentleman, or as he was — quite particularly 
kind and worthy and contented with himself. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


69 


She knew that her mother considered herself most un- 
lucky in her husband, and that her father was thoroughly 
selfish and without principle; hut then they practically 
lived apart, even during the few months of the year they 
shared the same house. 

She acknowledged to herself that McLeod was a man 
of the class she had been accustomed to meet, and that 
George was not. But it was not George’s fault that he 
was not a gentleman, or that she had been fool enough 
once to mistake him for one; with no Justice could tMs 
discovery that had been forced upon her be visited on him. 

Was she to make the rest of her life purely a sacrifice 
to him? Was she to try and amalgamate herself with him 
and his friends, so that in time, perhaps, she too might 
learn to drop her h’s, smack her lips when she was eating, 
and be content with her lot in life? 

Miss White’s hard voice broke into her thoughts. 

What a nice fellow McLeod is! ” she said. I wish 
I had seen him to speak to; I wanted to tell him to come 
and see us. For that matter, mother might write and ask 
him to come on Thursday evening. Do you think he would 
come? ” 

I am positively sure he would not,” said Christina, 
sharply — that is to say, unless you knew him a great deal 
better on the Australia than I did.” 

What happened to your friend Grant ? ” put in Mrs. 
White. He was more for ladies’ society.” 

Bless me, mother, didn’t you see ? Why, the whole 
afternoon he was tied to the apron strings of that Lady Eva 
Wrench, who doesn’t think the rest of the world good 
enough to speak to — horrid, stuck-up girl! ” 

She is exceedingly pretty at any rate,” said Christina. 

A carriage, full of men she knew, passed at that moment, 
and distracted Miss White’s attention, hut her mother 
remarked in a would-be jocund tone that she supposed it 
would not be right for Christina to want to talk to other 
gentlemen while her husband was there, but that if he was 
sent off to the Levant she hoped he would allow his wife 
to amuse herself. 

George’s face fell, and he looked suddenly at Christina. 

“ I haven’t said anything to her about these rumours,” 


70 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


he said. I didn’t want to vex her when it may all come 
to nothing. But they do talk of sending us to the Levant 
to relieve the Dreadnought. It’s too disgusting. When 
I was at Malta as a boy, ships used to stay six months or 
so and settle down comfortably. But now you never know 
what day you may he told to get ready to start at twenty- 
four hours’ notice for the Lord knows where. But I don’t 
believe they’ll send us, Kitty.” 

Christina answered without looking at him — was it 
to hide the sudden flash of joy in her eyes? 

How stupid she had been not to realize the possibilities 
of separation in George’s profession. Were not ships often 
away for three years at a time? Had not some man told 
her that very afternoon that he had spent four years and 
a half at an Austrahan station? 


CHAPTER XI. 

^^May I come in?” said McLeod. ‘‘1 have left the 
dogs downstairs.” 

“ Andrew, my dear hoy, you are very welcome. Come 
to the Are; I am sure you must be perished. Why, your 
hands are like ice! ” 

Andrew McLeod had come to see the one woman in 
Malta he ever willingly visited. Lady Ruskin was a little, 
frail old lady, much worn and subdued by a life of constant 
knocldng about, and a very troublesome husband and 
family. McLeod had a culte for old ladies, and this cousin 
of his had a gentle voice and soft caressing ways which 
he found more pleasant than he would have acknowledged 
to himself. 

He had known her more or less all his life, and very 
well since the regiment had come to Malta. She had a 
pretty house at Sliema with a veranda and gardens, and 
he was always welcome there. 

Lady Ruskin never sat in the drawing room proper when 
she was by herself; she said that one small woman felt 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


71 


lost in a big room, and had selected a little alcove for her 
own, and curtained it off from the rest of the room. She 
had her books, her work, and her piano there; she read 
many novels; she worked a little for her own satisfaction, 
cushions and chair backs, which were a joy to her while 
in progress, but which she was always meekly conscious 
were admired by herself alone. McLeod was the only per- 
son who was allowed to see them, or to listen to the songs 
which she loved to sing with her little thin voice, and in 
a quaint, old-fashioned style which had once or twice 
almost made him laugh. He had insisted that his cousin 
should make him a cushion for his room, had selected 
favourites from among her songs, and had brought quite 
a little glow of pleasure and approval into Lady Ruskin’s 
suppressed, colourless life. 

She fussed over him now with the most intense satis- 
faction and pride. 

Don’t come too near me,” he said; “ I am rather 
muddy; I walked over from Pembroke.” 

Why, how tired you must be! Sit down and rest. I 
suppose you were out rowing all morning, and then to walk 
all this way! I wish you had ridden.” 

I couldn’t,” said McLeod. I sent two of the ponies 
in to Seliba this morning to be fresh for polo to-morrow, 
and Bairam has managed to kick himself lame in the 
stable — worse luck. Why, you have got a new rug since 
I was last here. The house will be gorgeous for Gerty’s 
reception.” 

want to make it comfortable for her, dear child,” 
said Lady Ruskin in her soft, apologetic voice. Andrew, 
wouldn’t you like something hot? If you would have a 
cup of tea? ” 

“ On the contrary, I should like something cold if I can 
have it. I walked in from Pembroke at a good pace. I’ll 
ring, and have some soda water if I may. When does Gerty 
arrive? ” 

Lady Ruskin looked distressed; she laid down the bed- 
room slipper she was crocheting, and looked at McLeod 
anxiously. 

Of course I shall be very, very glad to have the dear 
child,” she said, but I would be more content if she would 


Y2 McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 

stay in England this winter. Then if the Phaeton goes 
home to pay off in the spring, we might go to a more healthy 
station. But Gerty will come. You see they talk of 
drains 

I see they do more than talk/^ said McLeod, con- 
sidering they have rooted up the whole road. But that 
means the drains will be extra good by the time Gerty 
comes, doesnT it? 

I hope so, I am sure; but I always think when people 
go round digging at drains they make them worse. I re- 
member once when I was staying at your father’s — was it 
for a hunt ball, I wonder? At anyrate, I know the hunt 
balls were almost the best in England, people said. But 
what I was going to tell you was that there was diphtheria 
in the house, though whether it was because the drains 
had just been dug up or because they ought to have been 
dug up, I can’t exactly remember. I don’t think you took 
it — ^in fact, I fancy you weren’t born at the time; but 
your brother was very ill — such a pretty little fellow he 

was, with such golden curls ” 

Lady Buskin ended dreamily, and was aroused to the 
present by discovering she had dropped a stitch. 

I remember hearing about it,” said McLeod; they 
thought he was dead once, and I suppose if they had known 
what was going to happen they would have let him die.” 

Andrew, dear! ” said Lady Buskin, in a tone of mild 
remonstrance to which Andrew was accustomed. 

Then, having triumphantly recovered her stitch, she 
patted him gently on the arm, and asked if he had heard 
anything about his brother lately. 

I had a letter from the agent last week,” said McLeod; 
he says he hears Drumesk is much the same.” 

And I suppose he will never be any better? ” 

“ Never,” said McLeod; his life seems a very useless 
misery to himself, doesn’t it? When he isn’t violent he is 
wretched, and he always thinks people are insulting him 
and ill-treating him. He wants to kill himself — wouldn’t 
it be a mercy to let him? — though it doesn’t sound well 
for me to say so.” 

There was always a bitterness in McLeod’s tone when 
he spoke of his brother. Lady Buskin could not under- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


73 


stand it; she did not believe it possible that he could be 
hitter toward Drumesk because in a sense he stood in his 
way. Andrew had plenty of money, and was not supposed 
to be extravagant. 

He loved his old home in Scotland, and it was hard to 
think that it might never he his. Poor Drumesk was physic- 
ally as strong a man as his brother, and might outlive him. 

But it was impossible to feel anything but pity for such 
a joyless, shadowed life. 

Lady Buskin had a romantic fancy that the course of 
Andrew’s love affairs might have been interfered with by 
his position, but this idea had no foundation. She wished 
very much that he would marry — it was only right that 
he should, with regard to the title and property. 

Not perhaps Gerty — though the idea had often crossed 
her mind. Gerty was her only daughter, and fond as she was 
of Andrew, there were reasons which would make her very 
anxious if she were to be his choice. But if such was 
to be the result of their meeting often and familiarly in 
Malta, it might be all for the best. 

I want to ask you a favour. Cousin Amy,” said Mc- 
Leod suddenly, remembering an idea which had come 
into his head on the way from Pembroke. “ A Mrs. Stod- 
dart came out on the P. and 0. with me, and I would be 
forever obliged if you would be kind to her.” 

Lady Buskin had a shock. 

A widow, I suppose,” she said; where is she stay- 
ing? Of course I shall be very glad to do anything I can.” 

But you are completely wrong,” said McLeod, with a 
very heart-whole laugh. “ She has got a husband, very 
much alive, upon the contrary.” 

“ But, my dear boy, that is worse 

I solemnly assure you that I am not dreaming of fall- 
ing in love with her, or she with me,” said McLeod, tran- 
quilly. I am very sorry for her, but not with a sorrow 
that is akin to love. In a short life and a merry one, it’s 
always well to help a lame dog over a stile if you can, 
and if it isn’t too much trouble. Her husband- is in the 

navy — an engineer or something ” 

Not that dreadful Stoddart man who walks about 
Strada Beale with a pipe in his mouth and his hands in 


74 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


his pockets, and calls Ruskin ^ my dear fellow/ though he 
is old enough to be his father? My dear boy! ’’ 

“ I never heard you make such a positively ill-natured 
speech,” said McLeod, with a laugh, and you have dropped 
your work. I am sure from your description that that is 
the very man, and to tell you the truth I am afraid Mrs. 
Stoddart doesn’t think him any more charming than you 
do. She married him in a hurry when she was almost a 
child, and he was possibly less strikingly objectionable; 
then he was in China for years and she never saw him, 
and now she is repenting at leisure. And she was at school 
with Gerty.” 

McLeod knew this would interest Gerty’s mother, and 
it did, but it also had an unexpected effect. 

‘‘ hTow Gerty is coming,” Lady Ruskin said, we must 
be very particular. The girl may be nice, but think of 
her husband and her friends! ” 

“ But she can’t endure his friends,” said McLeod; 

‘ her greatest fear is that she may in time sink to their 
level if she has no one else to speak to.” 

Lady Ruskin shook her head doubtfully. My dear,” 
she said, “ I don’t want to seem unkind, but perhaps that 
is the very best thing she could do.” 

But such was not McLeod’s idea. 

You are knocking up against my most dearly loved 
theory,” he said. I grant you it might he most com- 
fortable for her, but best or even right — no! ” 

He persevered, partly out of good nature and partly 
out of obstinacy; if McLeod wanted anything he generally 
got it. 

Would you mind asking them to dinner? ” he said. 

Of course I will, if you like, and if Ruskin does not 
mind. But if I do, you must come, Andrew, and look after 
your protegee.” 

“ Oh, I will if you want me,” said McLeod. I am 
afraid I don’t like dinner parties, even here. But I will 
come if I am asked and if as a reward you will sing me 
something now. I see My Mother bids me bind my Hair 
on the piano — please sing it.” 

And Lady Ruskin agreed, with a little flush of flat- 
tered delight. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. Y5 

If you are sure you really want to hear an old woman 
like me sing,” she said. 

McLeod turned over for her, with his thoughts very far 
away. He scarcely heard the thin, breathless little voice, 
which broke on the high notes and introduced innumerable 
old-fashioned shakes and tremulos. 

Consequently he was startled when the song came to an 
abrupt conclusion in the middle of a verse, and awoke 
to the consciousness that Lord Ruskin had just come into 
the alcove. Before him his wife never ventured to sing, 
and received no encouragement to do so. 

His jokes and sarcasms on her musical powers caused 
her the most acute torture, more especially as during the 
long years of their married life she had never learned to 
know when he was in jest and when in earnest. She was 
vaguely conscious that everything she said and did irri- 
tated her husband — ^that, try as she might, she always 
managed to speak when she ought to have been silent 
and be silent when she ought to have spoken. She was 
so blindly nervous when he was present that she was sure 
to go wrong, and at the same time she was acutely con- 
scious that she was very trying to a naturally irritable 
man. 

Lord Ruskin was a small man, with a red nose and 
a presence. 

Among women he still considered himself irresistible, 
and he was never so honestly proud and happy as when 
he had succeeded in completely embarrassing the last girl 
he had been introduced to by a particularly broad double- 
entendre. He also found much entertainment at times 
in confounding a mixed company by a choice smoking- 
room story. 

McLeod, who was particularly careful in his speech 
before women, heartily detested his cousin’s husband, and 
took little pains to hide it. 

Lord Ruskin came in, carefully stroking down the few 
hairs upon which he depended to hide the baldness of his 
head, and McLeod immediately prepared to go, as was his 
habit. 

“ Why, Andrew, you’re not off? ” Lord Ruskin said. 

I can imagine that the delight of listening to my wife’s 


76 McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 

voice may have unduly detained you, but pray don’t let 
me stop either your pleasure or the music.” 

Lady Euskin had got up from the piano, and was 
nervously poking her work out of sight. 

“ Thanks,” said McLeod, I must go. I am due in 
Valetta to dine with a fellow at the club, and to stage 
manage at a performance at the gymnasium afterward.” 

Well, I see my wife has been refreshing you. God 
help you! Wouldn’t she let you have anything stronger 
than soda water? Come with me, and ITl see if I can’t 
find something a trifle more cheerful.” 

Thank you,” said McLeod again; I was hot, and 
I asked Cousin Amy for soda water. I don’t want anything 
else.” 

Nonsense, my good fellow. You are not going out 
of my house on such cold comfort as that, I can tell you. 
Eeally, Amy, you are a wonderful woman, but it is lucky 
for Andrew he hasn’t to depend on your hospitality.” 

Lady Euskin never could constrain herself to receive 
her husband’s sneers in silence. She began a disconnected 
sort of explanation and apology while McLeod was saying 
good-by to her, and Lord Euskin cut it short by marching 
out of the room. 

Andrew followed, with a very obstinate expression on 
his face. Lord Euskin might take him to his study, but 
he could not and should not succeed in making him drink 
anything just then. 


CHAPTEE XII. 

Grant was on guard. 

He had spent rather a dull day. There had been a 
sirroc in the morning, and he had felt stupid and heavy, 
and had had to turn out the guard twice in a great hurry 
for the governor. By chance nobody had turned up all 
morning, and the papers were very dull. 

He knew the pictures on the walls by heart, from the 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


17 


Nile expedition to the skeletons in the inner room, and 
he could not drink whisky and soda and smoke cigarettes 
without certain intervals. He had spent most of the day 
lounging over the fire in the comfortable guardroom arm- 
chair, with its one draw-back. 

A small Maltese boy, anxious to sell an infallible corn 
cure, had been his sole visitor. Grant had denied corns, 
and recommended him to go to Pembroke camp and seek 
out various of his friends. But the boy had lingered to 
explain further the infallibility of his ointment, finally 
suggesting with infinite gravity that if Grant had no use 
for the cure in the ordinary way it was a capital thing for 
polishing buttons! 

Grant had driven him away with contumely, but now 
he was rather sorry. It would have been something to 
do and a novelty if he had set to work to polish the brass 
buttons of his uniform. 

Why in the world hadn’t he asked some people to tea? 
He had always done that before. 

He would have asked the Wrenches, but Lady Eva had 
told him that they were going to pay calls at Slierna. But 
all the same, he had been an ass not to ask them — they 
might have managed both. 

Surely some of the fellows would turn up. 

He went out on the balcony and leaned over the para- 
pet, looking down on the unceasing stream of English and 
Maltese coming and going in the square. 

It was Thursday, and a good many people were going 
in to the palace opposite to call. Grant would have to dine 
there, and there was to be a dance afterwards; he knew 
the Wrenches were friends of the governor’s, and wondered 
if by any chance they might be at the dinner. 

The Welsh band was playing in the square, with a crowd 
of natives standing round. Some groups of English people 
had come to the roofs and balconies of the neighbouring 
houses to listen; Grant could see several girls he knew 
at a window in the Grand Hotel. 

He yawned, and wished it was time for dinner, or still 
better for breakfast next morning. 

Then he strolled disconsolately back into the guard- 
room, and had another whisky and soda. 

6 


78 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


In the midst of this refreshment, a clatter of footsteps 
on the stairs filled his heart with joy, and Camphell made 
his appearance. 

Come and have a drink,” said Grant, joyfully; I 
know you are a thirsty soul.” 

CamphelFs small, freckled face was not so cheerful as 
usual. 

“ I have been doing my duty at the palace,” he said. 

A lot of fellows are coming round here later. I left 
McFerran at the club, and — McLeod ” 

There was a certain hesitation over the name, and 
Camphell looked at Grant and stopped. 

Ah — McLeod,” said Grant, lighting a cigarette. 

Has he said anything to you? ” 

Not a syllable. I wish to Heaven I knew what to 
make of it. I have always thought him one of the soundest 
chaps I know, and the last fellow in the world to show the 
white feather.” 

Camphell spoke in a depressed tone. 

There was no real danger,” said Grant. There was al- 
ways a certain undefined jealousy in his mind toward 
McLeod, who was so much cleverer and more popular than 
he was. 

Camphell was unconsciously fidgeting with the tassels 
of Grant’s sword, which lay on the table, and he did not 
answer for a moment. 

I have always thought him a very plucky chap,” he 
said slowly. Poor Beresford and McFerran, who were 
up the Nile with him, used to tell of things he had done. 
And then to bolt from a lot of damned Maltee black- 
guards ” 

It’s a queer place, though, that underground Valetta. 
What savages those creatures are — hardly human enough 
to he called savages — and all dancing round with their 
knives ” 

Camphell broke in impatiently : Don’t try to make 
me believe he funked it! Why, there were the police, and 
we three — match for any fifty dirty Maltee cowards! ” 

There’s such a thing as panic I suppose ” 

Rot! Bones wasn’t afraid. At first, when the fellows 
came on, and he got mud on his face and both he and I got 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


79 


hit by stones, he was ready to give those devils what for, 
if ever a fellow was. He caught a big brute on the chest 
and trundled him over like a good one, and then I saw he 

had hold of another, and next minute 

He was oif down the street as if the devil was at his 
heels! said Grant. 

“ If I hadn’t been there myself, I shouldn’t have be- 
lieved an angel from heaven! ” said Campbell, shaking his 
head. 

He was puzzled and troubled, while Grant concealed 
a certain satisfaction. Campbell would not believe McLeod 
was a coward; he had been the most anxious of the three 
to penetrate to underground Valetta and explore it. And 
the danger had been of the smallest. They had passed 
through streets full of savage, half-naked creatures, ex- 
isting, as Grant had said, in a state that was scarcely 
human, many of whom, according to report, had never 
in their lives left their hole in the earth to reach daylight 
or have a breath of pure fresh air. Men, women, and 
children, who lived as it were in the very centre of civilisa- 
tion, and yet who had never seen the sea or the sun or 
the sky. 

They had treated the intruders at first with indifference, 
gazing at them as they passed with eyes of stupid dislike, 
and scarcely troubling themselves to make way for them 
in the narrow streets. 

Then one creature, moved by a sudden impulse, had 
raised itself from its seat and thrown a stone, and as by 
magic the whole street had been in an uproar in an instant. 
The natives had gathered round, shrieking and mad with 
excitement, almost before the invaders had realized that 
anything was wrong; they threw sticks and stones, mud 
from the street, parts of their scanty garments — anything, 
in fact, that came to hand. It had been unpleasant and in- 
glorious, but there had been very slight danger, and Mc- 
Leod had begun by helping to clear the way wdth more 
effect than anybody. He had knocked down one man and 
taken another by the throat, and then — Campbell did not 
like to think of what had happened next. 

He was on detachment at Floriane, and he had had a 
faint hope that, being at Pembroke with McLeod, Grant 


80 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


might possibly have had some explanation given him of 
what seemed impossible to explain. 

The best thing we can do is to keep still tongues in our 
heads, isn’t it? ” he said, with a sigh, and Grant said, Of 
course.” 

Campbell reflected, to his consolation, that even if Grant 
did speak no one would believe the story, especially from a 
man who was known in the regiment as Ananias,” and was 
popularly supposed to be incapable of speaking the truth, 
even when he wanted to. 

Three or four men who put in an appearance just 
then, and necessarily changed the conversation, were rather 
a relief. 

A little later McLeod and McFerran turned up, the 
former with a selection of dogs at his heels and looking as 
imperturbable as ever. 

Then visitors began to arrive from all directions — from 
the palace, from the club, from a football match, and from 
nowhere in particular, and they were all very cheerful. 

Campbell did not know whether it was by accident or 
design that a little later McLeod and he found themselves 
alone together on the balcony. A couple of men who had 
been with them had gone, others were over the fire in the 
guardroom, and Grant himself had just had to rush down- 
stairs to turn out the guard at sunset. 

An awkward silence fell between the two on the balcony. 

Campbell thought to himself, “ I wish he would ex- 
plain.” 

But how could he explain? The fact remained — he had 
bolted, and left the other two in the lurch. 

If it had been Tommy Grant I shouldn’t have been so 
dumfoundered,” thought Campbell to himself. 

In the square the band had stopped playing and were 
packing up their instruments, while the stationary crowd 
round them had suddenly become full of motion. The 
noise of many footsteps and the hum of voices came up 
to them blended together in one sound, and just below 
there was a clatter of bayonets as Grant inspected the guard. 
Through all sounds came the jangle of the perpetual church 
bells of Valetta, which Campbell had not been long enough 
in Malta to ignore. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


81 


They got upon his nerves in the dusk, and he felt that if 
McLeod did not speak soon he must. 

Suddenly McLeod turned round; he had been leaning 
forward with his elbows on the parapet and his back almost 
toward Campbell. 

Jorrocks,” he said. 

Campbell was at the other end of the balcony, striking 
a match on his boot; he looked up with a start, and dropped 
his cigarette. 

“ Look here, old chap,” said McLeod, twisting his mous- 
tache; I don’t care a hang what Grant thinks, but I wish 
you would believe I didn’t funk it yesterday.” 

Campbell began to protest eagerly. I didn’t — I 
couldn’t,” but McLeod interrupted him. 

Of course, that’s what it looks like — and upon my 
soul, I don’t know how you are to believe anything else 
— but I would be awfully obliged if you’d take my word 
for it.” 

“ Of course I will,” said Campbell, and then Grant 
came to the guardroom door and called to them to come 
in. He had just come up and was unbuckling his sword. 

-So whether McLeod would have further explained him- 
self had he had the chance, neither he nor Campbell ever 
knew. 

If he had, it might have made a difference in the lives 
of several people. 


CHAPTER Xin. 

^^This is something like a bank-holiday crowd, Mrs. 
Stoddart, isn’t it? ” said Miss White. 

If it is going to be another squash Like the admiral’s, 
I shall go straight home,” said Christina. 

They met in the cloakroom at the club, where Chris- 
tina had been trying to dispose of her wraps for the last 
ten minutes. She had started from the Strada Mezzodi, 
determined for this one evening to enjoy herself and trouble 
about nothing, and already she was a little discouraged. 


82 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Among all these people she seemed to he the one outsider. 
They all knew each other and exchanged greetings and 
occasional remarks, and she among them all knew nobody 
— nobody except the Whites. 

Her first dance in Malta had been a disappointment. 
She had gone to the admiraFs full of expectation, and had 
found herself in a mixed crowd, such as at home she had 
always avoided. There had been no room to move any- 
where, and dancing had been a sort of struggle on a 
drugget in a cloud of white dust. George had agreed with 
her that it was not good enough, and they had gone home 
early. 

Since then, at night as she lay in bed, Christina had 
often heard faint sounds of a hand when the windows at 
the admiraFs were open, and knew that, outsiders having 
been disposed of in a crowd, other people were amusing 
themselves. 

At an exceedingly jovial card party at the Whites last 
night somebody had said that there was a dinner party 
and a dance at the admiraFs, and the window had been 
opened to listen to the hand, amid a general chorus of 
declarations that they were all much happier where they 
were. 

To the club dances everybody went; Christina would 
have a chance of finding out if she was to be beyond the 
pale for the rest of her life — if she would he driven to sit 
still or to dance thankfully with such of George’s friends 
as were kind enough to ask her. 

Was Mr. Grant’s conduct to he a sample of what she 
was to expect now, or was Captain McLeod’s? 

Miss White by a free use of her elbows had managed to 
make her way to a glass, and was carefully arranging her 
black mass of fringe to her satisfaction; she was no more 
anxious to waste her precious moments upon talking to a 
girl than Christina was desirous to talk to her. 

She rejoined her mother, who was patiently waiting by 
the door, with her stout person very much in everybody’s 
way, and they went out together. 

Christina gave up all idea of reaching the glass, and was 
content to get rid of her cloak and join George on the 
stairs. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


83 


At the head of the stairs there was yet another crowd 
to press through — a crowd of second lieutenants and mid- 
dies this time, eager to he first; in the field, and keeping a 
sharp lookout for their prey. 

A little further on Christina caught her first glimpse 
of the dancing room, and her fears of an impassable squash 
were set at rest. 

‘‘Yes, there’ll he room to dance,” she said to herself, 
“ if there is anybody to dance with, for me.” 

She had never been nervous at a dance before, and her 
anxiety brought a faint colour to her cheeks, and altogether 
improved her. 

Mr. Grant, who was making his way across the room 
with a programme for Lady Eva Wrench, met her eyes and 
bowed, finding her pretty for the second time in his ac- 
quaintance with her. Prettier perhaps just then than even 
Lady Eva, who was considered a London beauty. But 
belonging to such a dreadful set, and with such a dreadful 
husband! 

“ Mrs. Stoddart, may I have the pleasure? ” 

Mr. Campbell had come up just behind Christina, gor- 
geous in his kilt, which made him look so different from her 
remembrance of him in blue serge on the Australia that 
for a moment she scarcely recognised him. 

“ You can,” she said, “ certainly.” 

He was nice to talk to, she knew, though he looked 
small, very small to dance with. 

“ Do you know many people? ” he said. “ Would you 
care for me to introduce anybody? I see some of our fellows 
are here — Grant of course you know, hut McFerran, or 
Seton-Kerr 

Christina did not tell Mr. Campbell how grateful she 
was, or that the pleasure of her evening was due to a very 
careless piece of good nature on his part. 

It meant in fact escape for the time from George’s 
friends, if not from George, and Christina, realizing this, 
began to enjoy herself fully. 

McFerran and Seton-Kerr both danced well, and both 
introduced one or two other men. Christina would not 
allow herself to realize that it was men alone that she was 
getting to know, and that Mr. McFerran’s wife would have 


84 McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 

been a more useful and satisfactory introduction than Mr. 
McFerran. 

After the first dance Grant came up, looking very hand- 
some in his uniform, and very well aware of his own value; 
his hair was carefully parted exactly in the middle, his 
moustache was waxed into an exact half circle, and there 
was a whiff of scent as he took out his programme. 

Christina remembered from. the Australia that he danced 
beautifully; if he had not looked quite so confident, quite 
so oblivious of any cause for offence on her part, she might 
have been tempted to forget his shortcomings for the 
physical pleasure of a dance on a perfect fioor with a per- 
fect partner. 

As it was, she received him with great civility, instantly 
gave him a dance, and when the time came with equal 
promptitude threw him over. 

Altogether it was a good evening, and there was just 
one contretemps during the Lancers. 

Christina was sitting out with Mr. Seton-Kerr, and they 
had established themselves near the dais at the upper end 
of the room, where they had a good view of everybody. 
Then Mr. Seton-Kerr, being anxious to be agreeable and 
exceedingly rash, began to amuse his partner by remarks 
upon the various sets, and quite unconsciously got into 
trouble at once. 

Awfully rowdy lot those people over to the left,’’ he 
said. “ See that girl with the nigger’s fringe and the 
flounce torn off her dress? I know her well by sight, and 
we call her the Man-eater. Did you ever see such a couple 
of wild idiots as she and her partner look? ” 

Christina turned in the right direction with a misgiving, 
and saw what she had expected to see — George and Miss 
White, very hot and very dishevelled, romping vigorously 
and very happily through the Lancers. 

Her partner is a fellow from the Dauntless — an awful 
cad,” Mr. Seton-Kerr proceeded gaily; “ that set is all 
naval engineers and that class of people — they really 
shouldn’t be allowed to come to these dances. Just look 
out for them when they go round after the chain; one of 
the engineer’s wives had her wrist broken in the scramble 
last year, and they generally knock somebody down.” 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


85 


Of course Christina ought to have stopped him long 
before, hut her presence of mind had deserted her. Now, 
in charity both to him and to herself, she thought it best 
merely to change the subject; but she was sorry she had 
not spoken out when the dance ended and George came 
across to her, and addressed her by her Christian name. 

However, this was the only unpleasant moment in the 
evening, and on the whole George was at his best. 

He danced well, and he looked better in uniform than 
in evening dress; he was very attentive to Christina and 
proud of her. 

She said to herself vehemently, and to one or two of her 
partners as occasion offered, that sailors were completely 
different from soldiers, and indeed from all other men; 
they looked at everything from a point of view of their 
own, and they had a manner of their own. It was right to 
realize this in judging George. 

After supper came her dance with Mr. Campbell, who 
was in the best of good spirits, and insisted on giving her 
champagne, though she was anxious to decline, being under 
the impression that he had had quite sufficient already. 
Then he took her to sit out half way downstairs, and on 
the stairs they met McLeod in mess jacket and trews. 

Christina had not seen him except to bow to since the 
day of the races, and all at once they seemed quite as much 
strangers as if their friendly hour together had never been. 
McLeod had a particularly high collar on and the affecta- 
tion in his manner which had annoyed Christina on the 
Australia. 

Why, Captain McLeod,” she said, surely you aren’t 
at the dance ? ” 

Rather not,” said McLeod; I’ve been dining at the 
Welsh mess.” 

He looked very tall and powerful as he stood beside 
little Mr. Campbell, very much, too, as if, after his old 
fashion, he was not attending to what he was saying. 

McLeod is too old for club dances,” Mr. Campbell 
interposed; only subalterns go out in Malta, Mrs. Stod- 
dart. I shall have to drop it when I get my company. Be- 
sides, I regret to say. Tommy is getting a trifle thin on the 
top.” 


86 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I am quite content to look through from the billiard 
room/’ said McLeod, calmly; “there’s an excellent view 
from there, and more to be seen than you good people know. 
I have been watching Ananias and a lady who shall be 
nameless having a high time of it.” 

“ It’s very kind of us to let you into the secret of the 
billiard-room view,” said Campbell to Christina. 

“ Oh, I know all about it,” said Christina. “ I am in- 
timately acquainted with a middy about three feet high, 
who knows everything and is steeped in wickedness of every 
description! ” 

“ Personally I don’t consider it safe for a well-brought 
up and simple youth like myself to associate with middies,” 
said Campbell; “ they know too much.” 

Here McLeod, who had been to all appearance wrapped 
in meditation, suddenly woke up and said he must be off. 

“ I’ll go home with you,” said Campbell, “ if you will 
wait half an hour or so. Tell us what you saw from the 
billiard room. Mrs. Stoddart is dying to know all about 
Ananias — sweet youth.” 

“I know what your half hours mean,” said McLeod. 
“ Good-night, Mrs. Stoddart.” 

As an afterthought Mr. Campbell called down into the 
hall to ask for Jinks, but McLeod did not hear. 

“ He’s got all possible side on to-night,” said Christina, 
lazily watching him put on his coat and cap and light a 
cigarette in the hall below, and Campbell seemed to think 
it necessary to explain, as he would not have done but for 
the vague soreness between him and the man he liked best 
in the regiment. 

“ He’s awfully cut up about that little fox terrier of his,” 
he said, rather lamely. “ A big brute belonging to one 
of the sergeants half killed it yesterday. A great friend 
of McLeod’s gave the dog to him when it was a puppy^ — 
a fellow called Beresford; he’s dead now.” 

“ I must tell you about our tragedy this afternoon,” said 
Christina, and just then George came down the stairs and 
joined them. 

“ Well, Kitty, are you ready to come home? ” he said. 

Christina wished that just for once he would speak to 
her without using her name, but she would have minded 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


87 


nothing else if he had not looked so hot. It was not his 
fault, but he did so often look hot; even his hair was tossed 
and damp, and his collar was completely disorganized and 
had doubled itself up into limp folds. 

With a sudden movement of annoyance she half turned 
her back upon him. 

I was just going to tell Mr. Campbell about our 
tragedy this afternoon,” she said. 

Oh, tell him, certainly,” said George, imperturbably. 

You must know,” said Christina, “ that if Captain 
McLeod is fond of dogs, we are devoted to canaries.” 

Oh now. Kit, I am afraid you aren’t,” said George, 
interrupting her in all good faith. 

“ Well, at anyrate, I know my duty,” said Christina, 
and as there was a gleam of sunshine this afternoon, I 
was very careful to hang the canaries’ cages out on the bal- 
cony before I went up to the library. When I came back 
I found the whole of Strada Mezzodi in an uproar. There 
was a thick crowd of natives, and a few P. and 0. passengers 
— even the sentinel had stopped to look on — and all this 
was opposite the door of our flat! ” 

“She knows how to tell a story, doesn’t she?” said 
George, with a pleased pride for which Christina could 
have gladly shaken him. 

“ As I came near, I saw the flag lieutenant in full uni- 
form in the centre of it all; he was shaking his head grave- 
ly. ‘ That’s the flat,’ he said, pointing up to ours, and then 
he added something about ‘ quite dead.’ I was convinced 
it must at least be George 

“ Don’t keep me in suspense,” Mr. Campbell inter- 
rupted. 

“ And after all it was nothing but the canary ” 

began George. 

Blown down and fainted,” said Christina, so sharply 
that Campbell said to himself she was perhaps regretting 
it was not her husband. But George himself saw nothing. 

“ Well, I hope the canary is better,” said Campbell. 

“Much, thank you,” said Christina; “the flag lieu- 
tenant and I gave it sal volatile and held salts to its beak 
and it recovered; but it has done nothing but sit on its perch 
and shake ever since.” 


88 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


Shock to its system, I am afraid/^ said Campbell, wise- 
ly. “ Well, I hear the next dance beginning, and I must 
be off, for I am engaged to somebody or other. May I call 
and inquire for the invalid to-morrow ? 

There was no further excuse for delaying the end of this 
evening and postponing being alone with George. 

Christina went to the cloakroom, and when she came 
back George fastened her long, loose wrap round her neck, 
and she did not draw away from him, though his hands 
were damp and clammy. 

Then they walked home together in the moonlight, 
and Mr. Seton-Kerr’s words kept coming into her head 
the whole way: “ He’s an awful cad — an awful cad.” 

She tried to convince herself that the words did not 
mean so much. Had not somebody — she could not at that 
moment remember who — used just the very same words to 
describe Mr. Grant, with all his perfumes and airs? And 
Mr. Grant was certainly a gentleman. 

Your little friend with the freckles looked as if he 
had been punishing the champagne,” said George, and 
that was all that either of them said on the way home. 

Then when they had climbed the stairs to their flat 
and George had unlocked the door, Christina went 
straight to her room. If it was only possible for her 
to shut out all sight and sound and memory of George 
till morning came, she felt anything would have been bear- 
able. 

But a few minutes later he burst into the room im- 
petuously, scarcely waiting to knock and allowing no pause 
for an answer to his knock. 

“ I say, Kitty! ” he exclaimed, this is something like! 
Here’s an invitation to dinner from the Ruskins. I told 
you they meant something when they came to call. Why, 
we shall meet all the swells in Malta! ” 

A great deal more likely to meet all the engineers,” 
said Christina, sharply; “it is sure to be a big duty din- 
ner.” 

At which George’s face fell so completely that she was 
sorry. 

“ It is not in the smallest degree Lord Ruskin’s duty 
to ask me to dinner,” he said, shortly. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


89 


Christina herself would have been pleased if his exulta- 
tion had not spoilt it all. 

Perhaps her marriage was not going to make such a dif- 
ference — perhaps it was only to his wife that George seemed 
so impossible. Other people might not notice all the little 
things that jarred upon her. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

I MUST say, I am anxious about this evening,” said 
Lady Ruskin. 

You always are,” said her husband, in the ill-humoured 
tone he kept for her alone. May I beg of you to behave 
like a rational being and not like a nervous fool.” 

Lady Ruskin was too much accustomed to this kind of 
speech to be particularly affected by it. 

She fluttered about the room, rearranging the shade 
of the big standing lamp, pushing a cushion into place, 
altering the position of an ornament here and there, while 
Lord Ruskin, from his position by the fire, followed with 
his eyes more and more impatiently. 

For God’s sake, Amy, sit down! ” he burst out at last, 
so violently that she started, and let a China vase fall from 
her hands to the floor. 

There! I told you so! Some people are born idiots,” 
said Lord Ruskin, muttering the end of his sentence to him- 
self, but not so low as to prevent his wife hearing it. 

With years he had grown into such a dislike for her that 
everything she said and did irritated him, and Lady Ruskin, 
being dimly aware of the fact, was even more nervous and 
more tactless than usual in his presence. 

She had been very shy all her life, and had never grown 
out of it, though her lines had always lain in society. She 
was a woman of warm but narrow affections, and she took 
very little interest in the outside world, or indeed in any- 
body beyond her immediate family. 

She knew, too, she was at her worst as a hostess, and that 


90 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


everything she said and did was watched and certainly com- 
mented on afterwards by her husband, even if he spared 
her a sneer at the time, which he seldom did. 

A dinner party was to her a much-dreaded ordeal, an 
occasion on which she knew something was sure to displease 
her husband — either the dinner or her dress or behaviour 
W'as sure to be wrong. 

Captain McLeod, Mr. Grant.’^ 

The wisdom of silence Lady Ruskin did not possess, and 
the interruption was probably fortunate for her. 

McLeod and Grant had driven over from Pembroke 
together, chiefly because it seemed absurd that they 
should not, hut they were not on particularly cordial 
terms. 

McLeod looked depressed and grave; Grant was gor- 
geous, from his embroidered silk socks to the buttonhole 
of parma violets Lady Eva, Wrench had presented to him 
that afternoon. 

Almost immediately afterwards came the Wrenches — 
Lady Eva and her brother and his wife — and Grant was 
instantly engrossed, just as he had once been with Chris- 
tina Stoddart. 

He had eyes .for nobody hut Lady Eva, and Lord Rus- 
kin, having arranged that she should sit next him during 
dinner, was quite content to leave her to Grant for the 
present, and do his duty as host elsewhere. He was an ex- 
cellent host, though in the end he always managed to secure 
the prettiest woman in the room for his own entertain- 
ment. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stoddart.^’ 

George did not enter a room well; he was a trifle too 
anxious to show that he was entirely unembarrassed. 

Lady Eva said to Grant: 

Who is that awfully bumptious creature, and what 
possessed that girl to marry him? ” 

It’s a very romantic tale,” said Grant, and thereupon 
proceeded to give in full Christina’s foolish confidence on 
the Australia. 

Lady Eva was lazily interested. 

^^And she told you all that? You must be very inti- 
mate.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


91 


I assure you I had no idea we were till she began to 
confide in me,” said Grant, complacently. 

That’s a very smart dress,” said Lady Eva. Do you 
remark how promptly Lord Euskin had spotted her — the 
old wretch.” 

Grant had remarked it, and, added to Lady Eva’s in- 
terest, the fact reawakened his own. 

While some late arrival was being greeted, he crossed 
the room and spoke to Christina with something of his old 
tone. 

We haven’t had a talk for a long time,” he said. 

Christina looked him full in the face, and laughed ever 
so little. 

Then she turned to Lord Euskin, who was beginning 
gently to try and discover how much it would take to shock 
her. 

Grant was piqued, and was not sorry to find he was told 
off to take her in to dinner, though he had expected Lady 
Eva to he his fate. 

But Lady Euskin was not enlightened as to the flirta- 
tions of the outside world, and purposely arranged that 
McLeod should take in Lady Eva Wrench. 

Success did not crown her efforts. Lady Eva found Lord 
Euskin much more amusing than McLeod, and enjoyed his 
risque speeches and low- voiced stories to the full. McLeod, 
finding nothing to say, either to her or to his left-hand 
neighbour, proceeded to eat his dinner in calm and unem- 
barrassed silence. 

Grant asked softly why did Mrs. Stoddart forget old 
friends, and Christina, finding that they were thrown upon 
each other’s society for the next hour or two, and that Grant 
was good to look upon and had a certain physical attrac- 
tion for her, would have found the time pleasant enough 
had not anxiety about George genuinely distracted her 
attention. 

If he had only been on the same side of the table as she 
was — if she could have only avoided seeing him so restlessly 
civil, so completely familiar in his manner — she thought 
she could have borne to hear his voice and his laugh above 
all the rest. As it was, it was not till after dinner that she 
began to enjoy herself — after dinner, when George was out 


92 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of sight and she could almost succeed in forgetting his 
existence. 

Lady Eva Wrench was very cordial, and in five minutes 
she and Christina found half a dozen mutual acquaintances. 
They had lots to talk about, and many little anecdotes to 
relate of their mutual friends. For half an hour it was 
almost as if George Stoddart had never existed, and then 
the men appeared. 

Lady Eva and Christina had established themselves on 
a sofa, half in shade and half lighted by the tall standing 
lamp; it threw a pinkish and very becoming shadow, and 
Lady Eva had been brought up never to neglect effects. 
Christina was younger and fresher, and did not mind; be- 
sides, she had not the reputation of a beauty to live up to. 

The men straggled in, some half sheepishly, as if apolo- 
gizing for their appearance, some looking confident of 
bringing joy with them. 

There was Lord Ruskin, with his gouty limp, his waist- 
coat meeting with difficulty over his stout little person, 
and his small sensual eyes taking a rapid and comprehensive 
survey of the room as he came in; there was Grant, looking 
pleased with himself and all the world besides, and bliss- 
fully confident of the pleasure his arrival must bring; there 
was McLeod, with his thoughts to all appearance miles 
away, and an air of complete indifference to all things. 
Among the last to come in was George Stoddart, talking to 
another naval man as he came, and looking, Christina could 
not help seeing, indefinably different from everybody else. 

In the general half pause which followed, a tall sailor 
came up to where Lady Eva and she were sitting, and began 
to talk commonplaces. 

Lord Ruskin had gone instinctively to plant himself 
in front of the fire, and George followed him. 

Christina, as she talked, saw her husband draw up a 
chair for himself and throw himself back in it, his hands 
in his pockets and both legs stretched out to their fullest 
extent. He certainly looked exceedingly comfortable. 

She could catch bits of conversation. 

“ My dear Lord Ruskin, it is quite a mistake I assure 
you. I know for a fact that the Phaeton won’t be out of dock 
for six weeks.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


93 


Oh, well, of course if you know more about my ship 
than I do 

And, Lady Ruskin, you must come to tea with me 
on board the Dauntless — you really must. Christina — 
George raised his voice — shall we not he delighted to see 
Lady Ruskin, if she will fix her own day? ” 

People had not yet settled down to conversations of 
their own, and his words fell on silence — everybody was 
listening. 

Christina flushed. 

‘‘ I am sure Lady Ruskin must he very tired of going 
to tea on hoard ship,’^ she said, hastily. 

George looked hurt. 

My wife is afraid you will only think it a bother,” he 
said, apologetically; but now really. Lady Ruskin, won’t 
you give us the pleasure of your company some afternoon ? ” 

Lady Ruskin, dragged out of a difficult conversation 
with one of the great ladies of Malta, looked a trifle dis- 
mayed, and it was McLeod who came to the rescue, waken- 
ing up suddenly and to all appearance accidentally. He 
crossed to the fireplace and began to talk to George, ap- 
parently quite unconscious that he was interrupting, and 
thereby saving him from a repulse which Christina at any- 
rate would have felt. 

Christina could not he sure whether he had been moved 
by accident or design, but in either case felt grateful. 

Later on in the evening, after he had played, and Grant 
and one or two other people had sung, McLeod came over 
to where she was sitting. 

Campbell says you have half promised to ride with 
him,” he began, twisting his red moustache. “ Would you 
care for a mount? I think Tommy III would carry a lady 
very well.” 

Christina was grateful, but ever so little piqued as well; 
McLeod had three ponies, but though he proffered her one 
to ride he did not proffer his own society. It was decided- 
ly good-natured, but scarcely flattering. 

Get Campbell to take you out to Civita Vecchia,” 
he suggested; it is a good ride, and I am sure Seton-Kerr 
will be delighted to give you tea — he’s on detachment out 
there.” 


7 


94 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


‘‘ So you are inviting me to tea with one man as well 
as to ride with another/^ said Christina, laughing. 

Then, as he seemed to consider an answer to this speech 
unnecessary, she began in a lower tone: 

I wish you would tell me what has moved Mr. Grant 
to be so very civil to-night.” 

McLeod had been standing beside her, but he sat down 
now on the seat which Lady Eva had left to go to the piano 
a few minutes before. 

‘‘ Do you remember,” he said, we talked of human 
chameleons? Well he’s one.” 

‘‘ He wouldn’t make a good friend then? ” said Chris- 
tina. 

Grant never was friends with a woman in his life,” 
said McLeod, bluntly. “ It’s my opinion — I give it to you 
for what it’s worth — that platonic friendship is a delusion 
and a snare. I am as lonely a fellow as far as relations go 
as possible, and I have lots of men friends, hut I have never 
ventured to make friends with a woman.” 

Christina had never heard him make so long a speech 
in her acquaintance with him. He interested her, though 
the interest did not seem to he reciprocal, and she did not 
want to let the conversation drop, which she knew was at 
any moment possible with him. 

“Haven’t you many relations?” she said. “I have 
just a father and mother, and they are both offended with 
me, and for that matter I don’t think they ever cared very 
much about me — not as other people’s fathers and mothers 
seem to care, at least. It’s funny, too, don’t you think, 
for there was only me.” 

“ We are both pretty solitary people, then,” said McLeod. 

Practically my nearest relations are the Ruskins, and they 
are only second cousins. And you know your existence is 
not of very vital importance to second cousins, however 
friendly they may be.” 

Christina shook her head. 

“ So we ought to get on well together,” said McLeod, 
still playing with his moustache. 

“ But of course you would be afraid to risk friendship,” 
said Christina, “ for my sake or yours? ” 

“It is foolish to run any risks,” said McLeod, quite 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


95 


gravely; then he raised his brown eyes and looked straight 
at Christina, soberly, reflectively, and without any embar- 
rassment. 

I think we should be pretty safe,” he said. 

She began to laugh. 

I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment 
or not,” she said. 

McLeod made no answer; a moment later he asked her 
if she was going to the garrison concert next Saturday. 

Then some one gave signs of departure and there was 
a general movement. Christina’s thoughts were completely 
engrossed with a successful endeavour to get George out 
of the house without letting him remember his unanswered 
invitation to Lady Ruskin. 

But he remembered as they walked through Sliema in 
the moonlight to the steam ferry. 

“ Rather slow, wasn’t it? ” he said, yawning capacious- 
ly; but, my dear Kitty, why didn’t you back me up when 
I asked Lady Ruskin to tea? It was very awkward for me, 
and she was quite offended.” 

Christina did not answer just at once; she was inwardly 
feeling that with all her strength she hated George. If 
she spoke, should she be able to prevent herself from break- 
ing out and telling him so ? 

Do you hear me, Kitty? ” he said, pulling at her 
cloak. 

I don’t think she was offended by me,” said Christina, 
with an effort. 

George was very placable. 

She’s a nice old lady,” he said, and he’s a first-rate 
sailor, and a rascally old scamp on shore.” 

He’s a trifle coarse, certainly.” 

He’s an old scoundrel. He has a grown-up daughter, 
and yet he runs after every pretty girl he meets. He keeps 
a woman out here, too, and makes no secret of it.” 

Does he? ” said Christina. 

I think a married man who does deserves to be 
thrashed,” said George, with energy. 

You wouldn’t? ” 

He coloured hotly in the moonlight, and dropped her 
hand. 


96 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


My dear Kitty/^ he said, you should he more careful 
how you speak.” 

No, George, I believe you are the very best man I ever 
knew,” said Christina, earnestly. 

“ I must believe him good,” she told herself anxiously, 
it is the only way I can stand him.” 

Then they reached the steam ferry, and had a few min- 
utes to wait on the wooden platform with some other people. 

When they got on board the steam tug, George secured 
himself a seat near Lady E va Wrench, more to his gratifica- 
tion than to hers. 

It was a satisfaction to him to call her by her name, 
though there were only a few Maltese to he impressed. 

That was a foible natural to his birth and education, 
Christina said to herself. Was she not large-minded enough 
to overlook such small things for the sake of his goodness? 

And he was very kind, if a little officious. It was he 
who secured a carriage for the Wrenches at the top of the 
Marsamuscetto steps, though perhaps it might have been 
just as well if he had left it to Lord Francis. 

George and Christina had a great many more steps to 
climb before they reached the Strada Mezzodi, and about 
half way up Christina, who hated steps, paused for breath, 
and George made a remark which took her much aback. 

Kitty,” he said, didn’t I hear Lady Eva ask us to 
tea to-morrow? ” 

Christina was dismayed; she was quite sure he had been 
neither asked nor intended to come. 

She’s a very nice girl,” said George; we must cer- 
tainly go.” 


CHAPTER XY. 

Christina was leaning over the balcony looking down 
on Strada Mezzodi. 

It was rather an amusing post at the beginning of the 
afternoon, and she had nothing at all to do till George 
came in. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


97 


There was a riding party trying to start from the Great 
Britain Hotel. She could see two or three girls come out 
in habits, and several men, but evidently either a horse 
or a rider was missing, for they were on the lookout, and 
every now and then one or other of the men walked into the 
middle of the road to see if anything was in sight. 

The admiraPs carriage had been waiting at his door 
for the last twenty minutes, and he himself had just gone 
out to ride on a very substantial steed. 

There came the flag lieutenant in a desperate hurry, and 
still in uniform. He looked up at Christina and gave her 
a smile and a salute; they had been great friends ever 
since the episode of the canary. But Christina remembered 
that George objected to her being seen on the balcony, and 
considered it too conspicuous, so she drew back a little. 

A couple of men passed, evidently on calling intent, 
and officers apparently, for the sentinel at the admiral’s 
saluted. He was a Cameron Highlander, an industrious 
recruit, and he was devoting all his time to a study of the 
regulations on his hoard. But as Christina watched him, he 
suddenly brightened up and put away his board; he had 
caught sight before she did of the three Irish Rifles who 
were coming to relieve him. 

Christina wondered if during the whole two hours he 
had been looking forward to the time when he would he 
relieved; probably, as he studied the regulations so care- 
fully, he was in hopes of being a corporal or even a ser- 
geant some day, and having such a hope before him he was 
more fortunate than she was. 

She had not had a very long apprenticeship at thinking 
of other people and not of herself, and consequently her 
thoughts generally veered round to herself and her own 
troubles. 

Who would think of them if she did not? To whom 
in the world, as Captain McLeod had said of himself last 
night, was her existence of any vital importance? Nobody 
in Malta troubled very much about her — why should they? 
She was not of vast importance, even to George. He was 
kind, but he was certainly not in love with her, and, on 
the whole, she fancied Miss White would have made him 
a wife more to his taste. 


98 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Christina liked to be first; she knew she could never 
he happy or even content with a position in the back- 
ground, from which there was no hope of delivering her- 
self. • 

She had ambitioned for herself at different stages of 
life a genius for singing, for acting, for drawing, for writ- 
ing. 

Once she had taken her courage in her hands, and 
gone to a celebrated teacher of singing for his verdict. In 
glees and choruses at school her voice had been praised, 
and she had never publicly tried to sing alone; but why 
might not her voice be worth much? Why not she as well 
as anybody else ? W as her voice contralto, mezzo or soprano ? 
— she did not know. She had heard of one or two great 
singers who combined two or three in the compass of their 
voices — why not she? Would her hearer he astonished, 
enraptured, when he heard her sing? Would he leap to his 
feet and tell her so? 

All these wild fancies had come to her, nevertheless 
when the singer gave his verdict, she accepted it without 
demur or doubt. But to he able to give pleasure, in time 
and with much practice, to a drawing-room audience did 
not seem to her worth striving for. She never wished to 
sing again. As she could not have the best, she would have 
nothing. 

It was the same now; if she could not take the position 
she wished for in Malta society, she would prefer to keep 
clear of it altogether — ^if George would let her. 

Without him she knew very well she could easily make 
a place for herself, but she was not prepared to throw him 
aside. 

Social success had been very little trouble to her until 
now. She had had her writing, and all the hopes, fears, 
and happiness it brought to fill her mind, but now George 
had taken away that ambition, and given her nothing in 
its place. 

There came Mr. Taylor with a dogcart, and he stopped 
just underneath the balcony. He was evidently going to 
take Miss White for a drive. Christina could hear her shout 
something to him from overhead, and he waved his whip 
in reply. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


99 


Well, the summit of Miss White’s ambition was easily 
attained — she would be perfectly happy driving through 
V aletta with a good-looking young man by her side. Gossip 
said that she paid for the dogcarts. 

The flag lieutenant came down the admiral’s steps still 
in a great hurry; he was in plain clothes now — how quickly 
he had changed! What was the summit of his ambition? 
Christina wondered. He had probably some hope before 
him, and she had none. 

In a story, what would be the end of it? Most people 
would kill George, she thought, and marry her again — 
yes, they would be sure to marry her — to — she did not know 
of anybody she would be particularly anxious to see in 
George’s place; but oh! to be free — to be like other girls! 

But George had not the smallest intention of dying, 
and the Dauntless was not likely to be wrecked on the way 
to the Levant. Poor George! she did not want him to die, 
and, besides, it would be a commonplace, inartistic ending. 

If only they had been contented with an engagement 
like other people, and not been such utter fools as to marry. 
Then they would probably have agreed to part long ago — 
comfortably, and with no tragedy about it. 

How she must choose between the society of her equals 
and George. Was he worth the sacriflce? 

Then she remembered his long three years and a half 
of waiting and hoping for her. How often he had told her 
how he longed for a home, with her as a centre to it; how 
much trouble he had taken to have everything of the best 
for her according to his lights! 

No, he should not be disappointed. He was very good, 
and there was something noble about him, she felt sure, 
which would make up for everything — ^if she could only 
discover it. 

But her sacriflce seemed a trifle unappreciated. It was 
evident that he believed her to have everything her soul 
could desire. 

He would never understand her in the least: was she 
strong enough to live her whole life completely alone? 

George and some other man came up the street to- 
gether, and paused to say good-by at the corner of one of 
the side streets. George saw her on the balcony, and waved 


100 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


his hand to her. It was a small thing, but at that mo- 
ment it annoyed her that it did not occur to him to raise 
his cap. 

How common he looked, and how virtuous, and how 
pleased with himself! In a few minutes more he would 
be in the drawing room, and she would have to go in and 
meet him, and probably he would put his arm round her 
and call her his dearest old child, and kiss her, and she must 
submit to the touch of his rough cheek and his curly brown 
beard — why did men ever grow beards? 

Supposing a child came to her: would that complete 
her life and make her fond of her husband? Christina 
shuddered at the idea. The child would be hers, but it 
would be his, too — perhaps like him. She was better as 
she was, she said to herself; it would not add to her happi- 
ness to be the mother of a little vulgar boy, or girl, as the 
case might be. She laughed to herself a little, but not very 
cheerfully. 

Then she left the balcony, and went into the drawing 
room to meet and endure George’s kiss and greeting. 

Why, Kitty, aren’t you ready? ” was his first exclama- 
tion. 

What for? ” 

Christina had hoped against hope that Lady Eva’s in- 
vitation had been forgotten, but in a moment she saw that 
her hope was vain. 

I don’t think I shall go,” she said. 

George looked at her with consternation. 

Good heavens!” he said, “why not? Of course we 
must go.” 

“ It is hardly worth while; let us go for a walk instead. 
She hasn’t called, you know.” 

George gave an impatient exclamation. 

“Nonsense!” he said. “It is absurd for one girl to 
be so stiff with another. My dear old child, don’t be silly. 
Go and put on your blue dress and your corn-flower hat.” 

If I go at all,” said Christina, “ I shall put on a sailor 
hat, and go as I am — ^in a coat and blouse.” 

But a little later she yielded completely, with more 
than half-contemptuous kindness. Was it worth disput- 
ing about? Did it matter whether they went or stayed at 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


101 


home, and whether she wore a blouse and skirt or a dark 
blue silk dress, which was too good for the occasion? 

They walked to Morrell’s hotel together, going round by 
Strada Reale, as Christina wanted to pay a bill at Hoskins’. 
So they did not talk at all, as Strada Reale on an afternoon 
was not conducive to conversation. 

They bought a buttonhole for George at the first flower- 
seller’s green wooden shanty, and then he evidently thought 
that the finishing touch had been put to his appearance, 
and that he was a husband to be proud of. He wore his 
favourite brown tail-coat; Christina had ceased to fight 
against it. 

The Wrenches had got rather a large private room, 
and by various additions of their own to the furniture had 
succeeded in making it very comfortable. 

There were a couple of screens, with big gold birds 
stalking about on them, plenty of embroideries and silver 
ornaments, and they had hired a piano. 

A good many framed photographs hung on the walls 
and stood on the tables, and the chimneypiece was strewn 
with premature Christmas cards, one, conspicuously placed, 
from Grant, being a photograph of all the Cameron officers 
in full dress. 

There were not more than a dozen people in the room, 
and they were all evidently fairly intimate. 

Lady Eva had not asked George, nor had she meant him 
to come, and she had no scruple whatever in showing it. 

She received Christina very cordially, introducing her 
to the men she was talking to and bringing her into the 
conversation at once, and she half turned her back upon 
George. 

I was in the room when the old general just ordered 
him out like a child of six, and Frank went without a word,” 
she said, taking up her conversation where she had dropped 
it; then she added to Christina, I am talking of my 
cousin, Frank Wrench — you know him, I think? ” 

Oh, yes,” said Christina, I do. And I have stayed 
at the Leslies while he was A. D. C. He used to have an 
awful time.” 

Did he?” said Lady Eva. was only there one 
night to dinner, when the general told him to leave the 


102 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


room before twenty people^ because he was too noisy or 
something.” 

“ He didn’t mind the general half so much as Mrs. Les- 
lie,” said Christina, eagerly; “ she used to make him stand 
in front of her with a tray to catch the ends of her cigarettes, 
and if she had girls in the house she used to send him about 
with them as if he were a footman. I remember once she 
sent him to early service at St. Barnabas’ with a girl, and 
I never saw a man in such an evil temper. He read his 
Prayer Book hard the whole time, and never knelt or stood 
up or took any notice of the service. It can’t have done him 
much good.” 

Christina had forgotten all about George, and in imagi- 
nation was back in St. Barnabas’, with Frank Wrench’s 
cross face in front of her, but she was immediately recalled 
to the present. 

I shouldn’t have stood it! ” George broke in to the 
conversation. 

Lady Eva turned round, and stared at him for half a 
minute; she vouchsafed him no further notice. 

The last straw was having to dance attendance on 
some male tame cat of Mrs. Leslie’s, wasn’t it?” she said, 
again addressing herself to Christina; “ more cigarette ends 
to pick up, or something equivalent.” 

George pushed his chair a little forward. 

My idea is,” he said, “ always show you won’t be put 
upon. How Lord This or That would find it very hard 
to snub me! ” 

I don’t doubt it! ” said Lady Eva, with emphasis. 

One or two men laughed, and Lady Francis Wrench 
put up her long-handled eyeglass and had a good look at 
George. 

Christina was furious, if he was not; her gray eyes 
flashed, and a little colour came into her pale cheeks. 

Lady Eva got up and turned to her. 

^‘Will you have another cup of tea?” she said; “be- 
cause, if not, I want to introduce you to Lady Enderby 
— of course you know her by name.” 

“ Ho,” said Christina, resolutely, but with some lack 
of truth. 

He must feel, she thought, the line Lady Eva was try- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 103' 

ing to draw between husband and wife, but she would show 
him that she was not going to desert him. 

Lady Eva said “ Indeed? and shrugged her shoulders; 
then she turned to Mr. Grant, and asked him where he had 
put his banjo. 

George jumped up, anxious to be obliging as usual. 

Let me be of some use ? ” he said. 

Thanks,” said Lady Eva; “ I couldn’t thinlc of 
troubling you.” 

It’s no trouble at all, I assure you. Lady Eva,” said 
George. ^^I’m ready for anything from pitch-and-toss to 
manslaughter.” 

He was not to be beaten or discouraged. 

Lady Eva said in a low tone to Grant, as he tuned his 
banjo, If we took that worthy man by the shoulders and 
turned him out of the room he might begin to fancy we 
weren’t absolutely cordial, but anything short of that is 
useless.” 

Hang it all! you often call me conceited,” said Grant, 
^^but what wouldn’t I give to be comfortably panoplied 
in conceit like that — no chink in his armour! ” 

Christina crossed the room to say good-by. 

Lady Eva received her with marked civility. She hoped 
to see her any afternoon she could come in, and she would 
certainly call in the Strada Mezzodi some day that week. 
Would Mrs. Stoddart dine and go to the opera next Mon- 
day? 

Christina hastily declined, trembling lest George should 
hear the invitation, and not unnaturally imagine that it 
included both of them. 

As it was, he said in a hasty whisper, ^^Ask her to 
dinner or something, old child.” 

Christina shook her head very decidedly. 

As they left the hotel he reproved her. 

Old girl, I am afraid you are inhospitable. We might 
have had a jolly little dinner party. I like Lady Eva. She’s 
a little shy certainly ” 

Shy! Ye gods! 

She restrained herself from telling him that if he liked 
Lady Eva, the liking was not mutual. 

^^My dear George,” she said, impatiently, ^Hhe Wrenches 


104 McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 

consider themselves much too heavy swells for you and me. 
And Lady Eva is going to marry a man who is the next 
thing to royalty.^’ 

“ But, after all, it is better to marry the man you are 
fond of, isn’t it?” said George, taking her hand and giv- 
ing it an affectionate squeeze. 

They were going straight home, through quiet streets 
of steps, where there were only Maltese to be seen. 

How very ugly George looked! 

Lady Eva couldn’t marry the man she was fond of, 
as it happened,” Christina said; it was some man in the 
army, and he turned out to be her brother — under the rose 
of course. At least, so people say.” 

My dear Kitty, you have a collection of the most 
startling tales! ” 

‘^Well,” said Christina, thought of working that 
into a story, but then I was afraid it was too unpleasant 
a subject. I might have got into difficulties ” 

“ I am glad you had that much saving grace at anyrate,” 
said George. He frowned; any mention of her writing 
annoyed him, and she knew it. She hastily changed the 
conversation. 

Do you know,” she said, they once wanted me to 
marry Eranch Wrench — ^Lady Eva’s cousin. He didn’t 
want it particularly, I fancy, but his people did, and 
mine.” 

George laughed; he was not jealous. 

‘‘ Are you sorry you couldn’t, old child? ” he said. 

Dreadfully! ” said Christina. She knew George 
would take it as a joke, and it was a satisfaction to speak 
the whole truth for once. 

You wouldn’t think it, but I was once proposed to 
by a girl, and a very nice one, too,” said George, com- 
placently. 

“Hot a very nice one, I should think,” said Chris- 
tina. ^^Look, George, at those lovely green dragons and 
frogs in that shop. Do let us go and buy some.” 

Well, she wanted me to marry her all the same. You 
don’t seem very much interested.” 

I am a great deal more interested in those frogs,” said 
Christina. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


105 


She had brought George to a full stop in the street, op- 
posite the quaint little shop. 

“ And you don’t want to know about it all? ” said he, 
reproachfully. 

“ No,” said Christina, “ I don’t. I have no doubt she 
cried, and said she was miserable at home, and that she 
could not bear to part with you — so many men tell you that 
story. I am sure most of them imagine half and invent 
the rest.” 

George was somewhat hurt. 

I assure you it is perfectly true,” he said. 

I daresay. And a pretty good snub I should give any 
other man who said as much to me. Come and ask the 
price of this frog, or I shall say something rude in another 
minute,” said Christina, hastily. 

And the words which were repeating themselves in her 
head, and which seemed to have come there of their own 
volition, were two very unpleasant ones indeed, which 
would have undoubtedly penetrated to George’s understand- 
ing had they been said: they were, Fatuous fool! ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The only satisfaction open to Christina as the result 
of that unsatisfactory tea party was the discovery that 
in some irrational way Miss White had taken upon herself 
to be thoroughly annoyed thereby. 

The Whites had a habit of making their appearance 
at all hours of the day and night, encouraged by George 
— a practice which Christina considered very objectionable. 

That evening she had established herself very com- 
fortably over the stove which did duty for a fireplace; she 
had brought home rather an interesting book from the 
library, and she had intended to spend a happy evening. 

George had gone round to the club, after much persua- 
sion from Christina, to attend a lottery there, in preparation 
for the races on the 24th. 


106 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


He had been most unwilling to leave his wife alone, 
but she had at last persuaded him that it might be done 
without unkindness. 

Indeed it cost her some time and trouble to corrupt 
him into a belief that he took any interest in either racing 
or lotteries. He was inclined to think that he disapproved 
of both till she judiciously insinuated that all ‘‘ smart ” 
people thought differently. 

It was her first attempt at management, and she was 
surprised and pleased to see how well it had succeeded, and 
at the same time a little ashamed of herself. 

But it was delightful to look forward to a whole long 
evening alone with a book. 

Consequently it was with the reverse of satisfaction 
that she recognised Miss White’s shrill voice at the door 
of the flat in converse with the cook — even Caroline had 
by permission gone out for the evening. 

Christina frowned impatiently; would she never be 
alone again in her life? 

She scarcely turned round to greet her unwelcome 
visitor. 

Miss White was arrayed as for out of doors, in a cloak 
and a Tam o’ Shanter, and Christina discontentedly hoped 
that this was the sign of a short visit. 

She knew Miss White did not like her, that she was 
jealous of her, and indignant at being held at arm’s length. 
She was quite sharp enough, if George was not, to see that 
his friends were not Christina’s, and she resented the fact. 
She announced frequently, if vaguely, to her mother and 
friends that she was not going to stand it. She was quite 
as good as Mrs. Stoddart, with all her stuck-up airs, and she 
would tell her so some day. 

She planted herself between Christina and the light, 
with a slight greeting. 

Well,” she said, so you have been to a swell tea party 
this afternoon. I do think you might have taken me, if 
you had been in the least good-natured — you knew I was 
alone all afternoon.” 

But you weren’t asked,” said Christina, mildly. 

What does that matter for afternoon tea? I know I 
couldn’t go out and leave a girl all alone in the house. Why, 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 107 

the minute mother heard you were by yourself this even- 
ing she said I must go down.” 

Christina sighed. 

I didn’t know you minded being alone so much/’ she 
said. “ I don’t.” 

I have another crow to pluck with you as well as that/’ 
said Miss White. 

“ Hadn’t you better sit down, then,” suggested Chris- 
tina, and get it over? ” 

It always fidgeted her to talk to anybody who was 
standing over her. 

The other night in your box at the opera you talked 
to Eddy Taylor the whole time,” said Miss White, ‘‘ though 
you knew I wanted to.” 

“ Great Scott! ” said Christina, I assure you I never 
thought of it! For that matter, he bored me to extinction.” 

She was thinking what very large, coarse hands Miss 
White had, and what a large girl she was altogether, and 
how extremely uninteresting. 

I can tell you I gave it to Taylor afterward! ” 

You — gave it — to Mr. Taylor for not talking to you? 
What a capital way of doing things! Now, I should never 
have thought of it. I hoped he apologized in dust and 
ashes? ” 

Miss White was quite conscious that there was a con- 
temptuous ring in Christina’s voice, and at any other time 
she would have resented it. But just then she could not 
afford to be rude to her, and she already regretted what 
she had said. 

Well now,” she said, I don’t mean to offend you, 
Mrs. Stoddart. I have wanted all along to be friends, but I 
suppose we are not good enough for you.” 

What nonsense! ” 

You mustn’t mind what I say,” Miss White went on. 

What I came down for really was to ask you to put on a 
cloak, and come up on the roof with me. The moonlight 
is glorious.” 

Oh, I couldn’t,” said Christina, hastily; it would be 
fearfully cold on the roof, and I do hate all those stairs.” 

Miss White’s face fell. 

Well, you needn’t be so unfriendly,” she said, reproach- 


108 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


fully; there are just us two girls living so close together. 
I was so glad at first, but now 

It is not unfriendliness really,” said Christina; “ it’s 
the stairs and the cold.” 

But for this once,” said Miss White, eagerly, for 
ever such a short time! Do let me get your cloak for you, 
and say you will come.” 

Perhaps Christina was ever so little flattered by Miss 
White’s extreme desire for her society. Besides, she was 
anxious to show that she did not consider herself too good 
for George’s friends. 

“ If you really want me to go up for a few minutes,” she 
said, of course that is different. I’ll get a cloak in a 
minute.” 

It was decidedly cold weather for the roof. Christina 
got a fur cloak, and twisted a shawl round her head and 
neck, and Miss White followed her about, anxiously hasten- 
ing her proceedings. 

The moon won’t run away,” said Christina on the 
stairs. 

Miss White giggled and said nothing, hut the eagerness 
in her manner had decidedly increased. 

They reached to the top of the stairs, and pushed open 
the door leading to the roof, to he met by a flood of moon- 
light, which was dazzling, after the semi darkness on the 
way up. 

Why, there is somebody up here already,” said Chris- 
tina. 

Miss White again giggled. 

“ It’s all right,” she said, holding fast by Christina’s 
cloak; I expect it is only Mr. Taylor and another fellow.” 

Two uniforms emerged out of the shadow of a tall 
chimney pot. 

Christina drew hack toward the doorway, and felt she 
had been made a fool of. 

Is that you. Miss White ? ” said a tentative voice. 

Hush! ” said Miss White, quickly. Did you come up 
quietly? Is it all right? ” 

“A watchdog couldn’t have heard us — eh, Benson? 
You know Mr. Benson? I ordered my servant to bring 
round supper from the club in about half an hour.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


109 


Eipping! ” said Miss White, clapping her hands; 
^^you have met Mrs. Stoddart? Mr. Benson — Mrs. Stod- 
dart. You see I have brought a chaperon all right. 

Christina had listened to everything in complete silence. 
The whole festivity had evidently been prearranged, and 
evidently, too. Miss White was faintly uneasy as to the suc- 
cess of her deception. 

Christina heard Mr. Taylor say to her half aside, ^^Is 
it all right about the old couple ? And the answer was. 
Oh, yes; they think I am spending the evening safe enough 
with Mrs. Stoddart.” 

I hope they won’t take it into their heads to go and 
see! ” said Mr. Taylor, with a laugh. 

Christina realized how completely she had been made a 
convenience of. 

What shall we do to amuse ourselves? ” said Miss 
White, in a would-be sprightly tone. She was evidently 
very happy, and Christina could see quite plainly that Mr. 
Taylor was holding her hand. 

“ I am going downstairs,” Christina said. 

Miss White was overwhelmed with consternation. She 
said hurriedly that Mrs. Stoddart must do nothing of the 
kind; she couldn’t he so ill-natured. It was all right when 
she was there as chaperon, and it would he great fun. And 
to end the discussion she moved off with Mr. Taylor in a 
great hurry. 

We’ll have a game of hide and seek,” she said; we 
will hide, and w^hen Eddy whistles, you and Mr. Benson 
must come and look for us.” 

Then both of them vanished into the darkness. 

Mr. Benson had not as yet opened his lips. Now he 
turned to Christina. 

" Come and let us get a comfortable seat to wait for 
them,” he said, in a rather thick young voice. I daresay 
they would rather we weren’t in too great a hurry about 
looking for them.” 

“ I don’t want to sit down, thank you,” said Christina, 
calmly, and I am certainly not going to break my neck 
over chimney pots looking for them.” 

Then,” said Mr. Benson, still more thickly, and evi- 
dently rising to what he considered his duty at the expense 
8 


110 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of some embarrassment, let us make ourselves as comfort- 
able as we can. You don’t mind smoke, do you? ” 

With which he incontinently tried to put his arm round 
Christina’s waist, a measure which she defeated by placing 
the doorway between them. 

“Don’t, please,” said she, very mildly; “I mean.it, 
you know, though I don’t blame you in the least. I quite 
see your point of view.” 

“ Eh? ” said Mr. Benson, a little puzzled. 

“ I know you only wish to be civil,” said Christina, “ and 
to do what is expected.” 

Her companion stared at her open-mouthed. He could 
have understood it had she received his advances with will- 
ingness or with anger, but her present attitude was too 
much for him. 

She began again: “ It’s very obliging of you, I am sure, 
to come here to play gooseberry to Mr. Taylor, and to make 
yourself agreeable, in the only way you understand, to a 
married woman you don’t even know by sight 

Mr. Benson broke in: “I assure you I have often seen 
you, and — a — a — I am awfully smitten, I can tell you. 
Come out into the moonlight and let me see you now.” 

He was very young, indeed — ^young, with round cheeks 
and a stout little figure, and at the present moment he was 
a little husky as to voice and a trifle unsteady on his short 
legs. 

There was nothing to be angry with this boy about, even 
if he had been worth anger, Christina said to herself. 
Naturally he thought she knew all about this precious 
escapade, and he had evidently been told off to make love to 
her in a mild way, without much idea how to set about it. 

But the episode was crude, bad form, and a trifle vulgar. 

“ My good boy,” she said, “ you have made a mistake. 
Let me advise you, under the circumstances, to go home to 
bed, which is what I am going to do without delay. Will 
you be so good as to tell the others? Good-night.” 

With which she turned away, leaving Mr. Benson in 
speechless consternation in the middle of a flood of moon- 
light. 

She hoped the incident would close there. A quarrel 
with Miss White would be unnecessary and stupid. She 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Ill 


preferred to go to bed and leave everything to be under- 
stood. 

But Miss White was not of the same opinion. Ten 
minutes later, as Christina was putting out the lamps in 
the drawing room, she appeared breathlessly. 

“I say,” she cried, ‘‘whatever’s the matter? How 
could you be so mean as to leave me in the lurch like 
that? ” 

I am going to bed,” said Christina. 

But what in the world do you mean? Eddy Taylor has 
ordered supper from the club, and it will be the greatest 
lark. I assure you Mr. Benson is a very nice fellow, and 
the greatest fun.” 

Christina smiled a little to herself. 

“ But still, I might almost have been told what was going 
on and allowed to choose my own companion.” 

‘‘Gracious! is that it?” exclaimed Miss White, tri- 
umphantly. “ Well, if I had only known! Just come back 
this once, like a dear, and next time ” 

If nothing but plain speaking would content Miss White, 
if she could not understand anything else, plain speaking 
she should have. 

“Look here,” Christina interrupted, “you are older 
than I am, so I am not going to give you advice — ^in fact, 
for all I know, your proceedings may be all right and 
quite the fashion in — your — class, but they aren’t in 
mine.” 

“ Well, of all the rude speeches 

“ I don’t in the least want to make a quarrel of it. I 
think myself it would be much better if we were to say no 
more about it.” 

“ But what am I to do? ” said Miss White, plaintively. 
“ I can’t go back without you; and Mr. Taylor has ordered 
supper 

“ Why not go and tell them the whole plan has fallen 
through owing to my perversity?” suggested Christina. 
“ Do you mind my turning out this lamp ? I am really very 
sleepy.” 

Miss White was almost in tears. 

“What on earth am I to do?” she cried. “Where’s 
the harm? Why can’t you be good-natured?” 


112 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Look here,” said Christina, raking ont the fire in the 
stove; ‘‘I suppose you want to marry Mr. Taylor? Well, 
I shouldnT fancy you were setting the right way about it. 
If you really want advice, I should think you might quite 
well leave Mr. Taylor and Mr. Benson to eat the supper 
themselves, and to enjoy the freshness of the night as long 
as seems to them good. TheyTl probably go back to bar- 
racks before old Pietro locks up the house, and, if not, they 
will easily find his bed under the stairs. Under no circum- 
stances am I going anywhere but to bed.” 

Then Miss White descended to entreaties. Just for this 
once would not Mrs. Stoddart help her? — she would never, 
never ask her again — she would be grateful to her for ever! 
And when she had brought Christina to pity her and almost 
to waver, she suddenly lost her temper. 

She said with a sneer that Mrs. Stoddart was mighty 
particular — more particular than her husband was; many 
a moonlight party had he joined.” 

I daresay,” said Christina, calmly, George likes to 
amuse himself naturally. But he is a good man and a good 
husband — very different from those drunken boys up- 
stairs.” 

“ He’s no better than the rest of them,” said Miss White, 
passionately. 

Christina drew herself up. 

Indeed he is,” she said. Other men may neglect 
their wives or- are unfaithful to them, but he — he is very 
particular in all he does, and he deserves that I should be 
very particular too.” 

There came a great gleam of dislike into Miss White’s 
big eyes. 

She was not naturally an ill-natured girl, but if it was 
in her power by words to humble the pride of the girl before 
her, or in any way to give her pain, in the passion of that 
moment she was eager and glad to do it. 

You needn’t look at me as if I were the dirt beneath 
your feet!” she cried. ‘"You think George Stoddart is 
a paragon, do you ? You have heard nothing about his little 
household in China, I daresay? ” 

What do you mean? ” 

The hot blood leaped into Christina’s cheeks, and she 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


113 


took a half step towards the other girl, with such anger in 
her eyes that Miss White involuntarily drew hack. She 
was a little frightened at what she had said. 

What do you mean? ” Christina repeated. 

^^What I say,^^ answered Miss White, rather sulkily. 

George is a very decent fellow, but no better than the 
rest. I am sure I like him very much, hut he certainly 
had a Chinese family — everybody knows it.^^ 

You will please to leave the flat and go up to your 
friends,” said Christina, sternly. 


CHAPTEE XYII. 

W’’hen Miss White had gone, Christina went to her room, 
and began to undress mechanically. 

She took off her dress, and put on her blue flannel dress- 
ing gown. She took down her long brown hair, and began 
to brush it out; but the brush went more and more, slowly, 
and presently it stopped altogether, and she leaned forward, 
with her elbows on the dressing table and a puzzled frown 
wrinkling up her forehead. 

All her ideas were upset. 

^ She had thought George so good, so honourable, so un- 
necessarily strict in his ideas. He had spoken so severely 
of Lord Euskin, and of any lapse of virtue in man or woman. 
She had believed in him fully. Was it because he was so dif- 
ferent in his ways and manners from any other men she had 
ever met that she had believed him different in everything? 
Her conviction that he was what she called good ” had 
given her courage to stand by him, to bear with him even 
when he most jarred upon her, and now that it was gone 
— what had she left? 

He ought not to have married me like that — it was 
wicked of him to marry me like that when I did not know 
what I was doing! ” she said to herself, passionately; it 
was selfish — it was unmanly. And what a fool I was — what 
a fool! ” 


114 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


It was the first time she had admitted to herself clearly 
that George had done her a wrong. 

She pushed her hair back from her face, and tried to 
think it all out clearly. She must he just. Was there any 
hurt vanity in her anger? If so, it must not make her judge 
unfairly. But it was a shock to realize that all these long 
years, when she had imagined that he was longing for her 
and thinking of her, he had in reality been quite happy with 
another home, another woman — perhaps children! 

Tears of anger and hurt pride forced their way to 
Christina’s eyes. 

Thank God, she did not care for him! How would she 
have felt then? How her strongest feeling was disgust and 
dislike. With all her heart she could allow herself to despise 
George now. 

And Miss White had said that everybody knew — every- 
body probably but she herself! Oh, it was low, degrading, 
insulting! 

Then suddenly an idea flashed into her head. 

If George had done this — ^if he was so different from 
what she had thought him — need she feel bound to go on 
sacrificing all her wishes, hopes, tastes to him? 

A light came into Christina’s blue eyes: her writing! 

•She drew a long, breathless sigh. 

She got up and went across the room, slowly, very slowly, 
to the only one of her boxes she kept there. She had wanted 
something with a key — something safe from George’s good- 
natured scrutiny, which completely ignored private rights 
as between husband and wife. 

There, at the very bottom of the box, she had stored 
away that precious last story of hers, and everything else 
connected with her writing, and since she had given her 
promise she had never once opened the box. 

She knelt down with her keys in her hand, and the old 
look of excitement and hope coming back into her face. 

Then she paused. Was she quite sure Miss White’s 
hasty words were true? 

She drew the key out of the lock hastily, with a change 
in her face, almost back to the old expression of impatient 
endurance. Before everything she must act up to her own 
ideas of justice. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


115 


Something told her that it was true — it must be true — 
but she must know. She would have liked to bury the 
whole memory at the back of her mind, but if she wanted 
to find out if it was true she could not do this. 

Who could she question? What proof could she find? 

Gradually she realized that from George alone could she 
know if she might believe this. 

And yet there seemed a coarseness — a sort of vulgarity 
— in appealing to him. He would probably tell her that 
she ought not to talk of such things. 

Then she roused herself with a start, as the clock in the 
drawing room struck eleven. 

George would be in almost immediately, and to-night 
she could not talk to him. She must be in bed, and able 
at least to pretend sleep when he came. 

But there was not much real sleep for her; she was far 
too much excited. 

All sorts of ideas for stories kept hashing into her mind, 
mixed up with confused recollections of what people in 
books and in real life had said and done in a case like hers. 
Sometimes she was inclined to think that she was making 
too much of the whole matter, and sometimes that she was 
making too little. 

Then she fell asleep at last, to wake up quite as unde- 
cided in the morning. If only there had been somebody 
she could consult — ^if only she had not had to depend en- 
tirely on her own point of view, with much misgiving that 
it might not be the right one. 

She took the whole of next day to make up her mind 
what to do — whether she should speak to George and put 
the thing into words, or not. She thought of it as she 
shopped in Strada Reale in the morning, when she went 
to tea on the Dauntless with George in the afternoon, and 
afterwards to hear the naval massed bands in the square 
— she thought of it especially when she met Miss White 
on the stairs, and gave her a cold bow. 

In the evening she and George were alone together. 

Christina was again sitting by the fire with a book on 
her knee, as she had been sitting the evening before, but 
this time she had no wish to read. Half against her will 
her eyes followed every movement of her husband. 


116 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


He was playing patience. 

He stood before a table, with half a dozen little packs of 
cards spread out upon it, and he considered them with much 
anxious thought on his red face. . 

He pursed up his lips and shook his head in perplexity. 

Did you ever see anything so annoying, Kitty ? he 
said. “ Come over here till I explain it to you.” 

How much easier it would be to believe the story with- 
out question. 

But to know that it was true — ^to feel free from the 
moral obligation of holding herself always at George’s 
beck and call — what would she not do for that? 

How delightful it would be to be able to answer at times 
like this, and without a prick of conscience: “ Ko thank 
you, George; I had rather read.” 

Had he played patience in his Chinese home? What 
had his Chinese wife thought of him? Were there little 
Chinese atoms of humanity that belonged to him, and did 
he ever think of them and wish himself back? 

Christina pictured to herself a little creature in Chinese 
garb, with George’s face, and laaghed suddenly, being very 
much ashamed of herself a moment later. 

‘^What is amusing you?” said George, rather impa- 
tiently. He did not want to be disturbed — ^it was neces- 
sary for him to concentrate all his attention on the end of 
his game. 

“ Come and sit down comfortably on the sofa when 
you have finished,” said Christina. “ I want to talk to 
you.” 

She was not quite sure even yet that she would ask her 
question. 

George came over presently; he was a little ruffled by 
the perversity of the cards, and he said so, two or three 
times over. 

Then he established himself on the sofa, put up his 
boots, and yawned once or twice. After which he hunted 
in the pockets of his morning coat for his knife, and began 
to trim his nails with much interest. 

Christina made up her mind. 

She directed her attention away from him, not because 
she did not wish to face him, but because she did not wish 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 117 

to see his occupation. It might make her speak more 
sharply than she intended. 

‘‘ George/^ she said, I want to ask you a question; 
hut before I do I must explain that there’s no ill feeling, 
whatever your answer may be.” 

He laughed. 111 feeling! ” he said. There’s not 
likely to he ill feeling between us, old child.” 

Christina began to poke the fire nervously. 

In China,” she began, looking round at George with 
some curiosity. He was quite unconscious. “ Is it true that 
you had — ^that you lived — that you had a — sort of wife 
out there ? ” said Christina, with much hesitation and 
embarrassment. Put it as she might, it seemed a brutal 
sort of question from her to him. 

AVhen she turned round again to see how he had taken 
it, he was sitting up on the sofa, with a crimson, dismayed 
face. 

J ust for a moment his manner of composed self -appre- 
ciation had deserted him. 

^^My — my dear old child! ” he stammered. 

Christina interrupted him. 

There,” she said, “ it’s all right. Don’t say any more. 
There’s no need for any more. Help me to tidy up the 
table.” 

But, Kitty — Kitty, darling — what is all this? Who 
has been talking to you ? What are you going to do ? ” 

George was still dismayed; he jumped up and caught 
her arm. 

Do? Put away these cards,” she returned, with rather 
a hard little laugh. “We both hate scenes, so let us leave 
the whole business there. It’s all right, only do let my 
arm go and sit down.” 

“ But, old girl, you don’t understand. You don’t fancy 
I ever cared about a soul but you? It’s quite different, too, 
from an Englishwoman — it’s nothing — ^lots of the fellows 
did the same. It doesn’t count, I assure you.” 

He was regaining his old confidence in himself and his 
old manner. 

“ You know, old girl, you are making too much of it,” 
he said, half patronizingly. “ I really couldn’t help it, and 
you mustn’t take it as an insult to you. I went out to 


118 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


China with my head full of you — ^mad about you— and 
with only a legal ceremony between us/^ 

Then, still holding her arm, he put his view of the mat- 
ter before her plainly and rather coarsely, gradually recov- 
ering his own excellent opinion of himself as he spoke. 

“ Don’t he foolish, old child,” he ended; “ you may 
feel quite sure of me now. And I don’t care to discuss such 
things with you.” 

Christina did not trouble to remind him that he and 
not she had continued the conversation. 

She began to sort the cards into packs thoughtfully, 
with her eyes on George’s self-satisfied round face. 

‘‘Don’t you ever think of her?” she said, slowly. 
“ Haven’t you ever a single regret? ” 

“Eegret! Not I! You needn’t be jealous, young lady.” 

Christina half smiled. 

“ Don’t you think it is rather a pity of her? ” she said. 
“ However, there’s no use in talking about it.” 

“ And you won’t let it make any difference, will you? ” 

Christina looked across the table at George with an 
expression in her eyes he had never seen there before. 

“It’s all over,” she said; “isn’t that enough? Now 
I am going to bed. Don’t forget to turn out the lamps.” 

“ Give me a kiss first,” said George. He quite expected 
her to come over to him obediently as she always did. 

But she only laughed, and turned round at the door 
to give him a little nod. 

“ No, Thank you, George,” she said lightly. 


BOOK IL 


CHAPTER 1. 

^^Look here, McLeod,’^ said Grant, ^^have you called 
on the Ruskins since that dinner? 

In the officers^ quarters at Pembroke space was decid- 
edly limited, and Grant was standing in the doorway, be- 
cause just at present there did not seem to he too much 
room for him inside. 

McLeod had pulled his long chair across the room, and 
was very comfortably established in it, in a costume which 
was doubtless comfortable if inelegant and rather scanty. 
He had all three of his dogs scrambling over him, and por- 
tions of his uniform strewed the floor in all directions. 

The regiment had spent the morning at the Marsa being 
reviewed, and had marched hack to Pembroke against a 
strong wind and through clouds of dust. Officers and men 
had reached camp hot, thirsty, and tired, and after a long 
whisky and soda at the mess, McLeod, like the rest, had 
proceeded to get out of his uniform as quickly as he could. 
He was very comfortable indeed now, in his long chair, 
with a hookah, which he preferred to an ordinary pipe when 
he was tired. 

He had his hack to the door, and Grant had to repeat 
his question before he woke up to anybody’s presence. 

I want to know if you have called on the Ruskins since 
that dinner,” repeated Grant. 

‘^Eh? what?” said McLeod, rousing himself with a 
start, and wheeling round in his chair to face Grant. 

Called on the Ruskins? Holy Moses! neither I have! 
It’s more than a week ago, isn’t it? Nearer a fortnight.” 

119 


120 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


‘‘ Let’s go and get shut of it this afternoon. What do 
you say? ” 

McLeod nodded assent. He did not feel particularly 
inclined for a dusty expedition to Sliema, but it was a free 
afternoon, and he had almost always to play polo, or to 
take out the boat, or to do linesman at some of the regi- 
mental football matches. 

I bar walking, though,” said Grant. 

By Jove! so do I this afternoon,” said McLeod, lazily. 

Then he returned to his hookah, but Grant lingered. 

The general gave it pretty hot to No. 5 company, didn’t 
he? I can’t think what came to McFerran — ^it wasn’t my 
fault in the least.” 

^^It was rather rough luck, when you had Lady Eva 
Wrench down to look at you,” said McLeod. Jinks, who 
had profited by his late state of health to inaugurate many 
freedoms, proceeded to crawl up his master’s person with 
the intention of licking his nose, and was kindly but firmly 
repulsed. 

‘‘Yes, she was there,” said Grant, with much com- 
placence; “we’re going it rather hot and strong at pres- 
ent. But it won’t do; she’s too expensive. By George! 
she’s as bad as a married woman for screwing presents out 
of you, and I am stony broke for the next couple of months; 
London about used me up.” 

“ Well, you’ve been amazingly constant,” said McLeod; 
“ one whole month, isn’t it? ” 

Grant laughed. After a gratified pause, seeing that 
McLeod had no intention of pursuing the subject, he 
showed signs of departure. 

“ What will you do about the boat if Kennedy goes 
home to the depot? ” he said. 

“ Put in Seton-Kerr. I am not sure that he isn’t the 
better man of the two. It’s a case of much splash and 
little pull with Kennedy.” 

“ It’s not settled what day we dine him, I suppose? ” 

McLeod shook his head. Was there ever such a fellow 
to talk as Grant, he thought to himself, impatiently. 

“ Well, ta-ta for the present. I have to go round and 
speak to Sergeant Lennox about some business of McFer- 
ran’s. What time will you start? ” said Grant. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


121 


As he walked away he said to himself that there was 
something up with McLeod undoubtedly; he wasn’t half 
as good company as he used to be. Had he not got over 
Beresford’s death yet, or was it that afternoon in under- 
ground Yaletta? 

But McLeod had regained his pleasantest manner later 
on, when he and Grant found themselves on the way to 
Sliema. 

Polo had been stopped for the last fortnight, owing 
to the state of the ground, and Nur-el-din was very fresh 
and bucked about the road in pure lightness of heart. 
Grant’s pony, P. P. C., had had the honour of carrying Lady 
Eva Wrench to St. Paul’s Bay the day before, and was con- 
sequently by no means so exhilarated, which was just as 
satisfactory to his rider, considering the dusty state of the 
road. 

McLeod was at his best on horseback; he rode much 
better than he walked. 

They did not hurry their ponies; the road was for the 
most part either up or down hill, and was very stony and 
dusty. McLeod was anxious to take as little as possible 
out of NTur-el-din, and Grant was equally anxious about 
his boots and breeches. 

It was quite four o’clock by the time they reached 
Sliema, and made their way along the still uprooted road 
to the Buskins’ door. 

The English butler who came to answer their knock 
greeted McLeod as an old friend. 

Miss Gerty came last night, sir,” he said. 

^^What? who?” said Grant, with a hasty glance at 
himself in a glass in the hall. 

McLeod began to laugh. 

“ Good old Grant! You scent prey at once! ” he said. 

What a disgusting way of putting it! ” said Grant; 
but hang it all, old chap, you might have told me.” 

With which he proceeded to remove carefully every 
speck of dust from his boots. 

You see, I wanted to have a look in myself. I was 
afraid of being completely extinguished,” said McLeod. 

Truth to tell, he had completely forgotten Miss Kuskin- 
Boyd’s existence. 


122 


MoLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Come on, for goodness’ sake,” he added, impatiently; 
how much longer are you going to keep the man on the 
stairs waiting to show us in? ” 

The revolution in the alcove. Lady Ruskin’s special 
demesne, was what first struck McLeod when they came in; 
her music had disappeared, her work was no longer on its 
accustomed table, and the curtain, which generally shut off 
her corner from the rest of the room, had been drawn back. 

Lady Ruskiu’s first words of greeting were the same 
as the butler’s had been in the hall. 

Andrew, Gerty has come,” she said. 

Gerty herself appeared a few minutes later, with the 
tea. 

She was a stout, rather figureless little person, with an 
extremely pretty, childish face and very fair hair. 

She greeted McLeod warmly, bringing out her words 
with a sort of cheery shout, which she had inherited from 
her father. 

Hullo, Andrew! Do you remember me? I was a nice 
little girl of twelve when you saw me last.” 

You were a very bad, hold little girl,” said McLeod, 
shaking hands. 

Miss Ruskin-Boyd burst out laughing. When she 
laughed she looked prettier than ever, and dimples came 
into her nink cheeks. 

“ You are thinking of my farewell words. What was 
it you had done to annoy me? I can’t remember. But I 
shall never forget how flabbergasted you and everybody 
else looked when I requested you at the top of my voice to 
<Goto .’” 

Lady Ruskin broke off her flagging conversation with 
Mr. Grant to say Gerty dear! ” in a tone of shocked re- 
monstrance. 

It was rather a startler from a sweet little angel, in 
short frocks with her hair down her hack,” said McLeod, 
laughing; and you said it with all your heart, too.” 

Well, it resulted in mamma’s rousing herself for once 
in her life, and packing me off to school. Are you going 
to bury the hatchet, and help me to have a good time this 
winter? ” 

“ You couldn’t come to a worse person for that,” said 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


123 


McLeod; I never go out. Here’s one of the society men 
of the regiment.” 

“ But it’s quite different when you have a cousin to 
look after. I am going everywhere, and I am going to see 
everything.” 

“ Gerty dear, will you have some tea? ” said Lady 
Ruskin. 

Well, a whisky and soda is really much more in my 
line,” said Gerty, and in Andrew’s, too, I expect.” 

I suppose you got accustomed to drinking whisky and 
soda at school? ” said McLeod; and to himself he was stig- 
matizing his cousin as bad form and an affected little fool. 

That is the sort of sarcastic remark that used to pro- 
voke my strong language,” Gerty said. “ Don’t you re- 
member when papa used to make me drink whisky and 
soda with a straw out of his glass? And I can turn you out 
a cocktail that will make you sit up.” 

Thank you very much,” said McLeod, calmly. I 
warn you it takes a good deal to make me sit up.” 

Lady Ruskin and Grant had both been trying to listen 
to Gerty as they talked to each other, and consequently 
their conversation had languished, and when Gerty drew 
her chair nearer the tea table, and announced that as noth- 
ing better was forthcoming she would have some tea, the 
conversation at once became general. 

There’s one thing certain — you must give a dance at 
Pembroke camp to bring me out,” said Gerty, firmly. 

“ Gerty dear,” said Lady Ruskin, in mild remonstrance. 

Nonsense, mamma. Of course Andrew must do his 
duty.” 

Andrew did not look exhilarated. He twisted his mous- 
tache and shook his head. 

I am sorry,” he said. But the messroom has a stone 
floor, and we are so far out of Valetta ” 

^^Wait till we come in to Yaletta in February,” said 
Grant. 

Nonsense! ” said Gerty. know other regiments 
have given dances at Pembroke. I think it was the Scots 
Greys who gave three running.” 

In the summer, perhaps,” said Grant, apologetically. 

Did they dance over the stones? ” said McLeod. 


124 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


don’t know, I am sure; but I know I met a girl 
who was married in consequence, and she said that 
though they asked no outside men, after the third 
dance there was hardly a girl in Malta who wasn’t en- 
gaged.” 

Good Lord! ” said McLeod. 

What a capital thing! ” said Grant. How did they 
manage it? ” 

“ Well, it was like this,” said Gerty: At the first dance, 
every officer in the regiment gave the girl he liked best one 
leg of a scissors; at the next, he gave her something — I 
forget what; and at the third, each man gave his particular 
girl a golden key, and they all proposed.” 

^^At any special word of command?” said McLeod, 
laughing. 

Lady Ruskin laughed a little too, but rather uncom- 
fortably. She had evidently much misgiving as to what her 
offspring might say next. 

It’s a capital way of doing things,” said Grant, with 
warm approval; “ but I hope they are a moneyed regiment. 
I am afraid we could hardly manage it; what do you think, 
McLeod? ” 

‘^Whenever I have my fortune told, I am always to 
marry a fair man in the army,” said Gerty, “ and I 
always begged them to say he was in the Camerons, An- 
drew.” 

Gerty dear! ” said Lady Ruskin. 

Gerty was deaf. 

I am immensely flattered,” said McLeod. Did they 
ever say auburn hair? ” 

He means the latest in brick-reds,” said Grant. 

Don’t particularize the colour, Miss Ruskin-Boyd, and 
give the whole regiment a chance.” 

haven’t settled on anything, except that he must 
have good legs,” said Gerty. 

Then McLeod won’t do for the place. He’s a riding 
man.” 

Lady Ruskin was in consternation; the conversation 
seemed to her to be getting exceedingly free and easy, but 
she was quite incapable of controlling it. 

McLeod realized that it was not only because she was 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


125 


afraid of the drains that Lady Euskin had been anxious to 
keep Gerty at home for another year. 

Gerty seemed to have read his thoughts. 

‘‘ Fancy, mamma wanted me to stay another winter at 
school! Not likely! I am going to every dance and every- 
thing of every kind! ’’ 

YouTl be the death of your mother, then,” said Mc- 
Leod, calmly. SheTl soon tire of it all. Cousin Amy,” he 
added, consolingly. 

But Lady Euskin knew' her daughter better. 

And you are going to mount me and take me for gal- 
lops, Andrew.” 

Indeed I am not, my dear. You are not going to gal- 
lop the roads on my ponies.” 

“ You shall on mine,' then,” said Grant, gallantly. 

Thank you,” said Gerty, with an indignant glance at 
her cousin; and if Andrew won’t ask me to tea in liis 
room, you will, won’t you? ” 

Of course I will.” 

And I intend to make papa give a dance on the Phae- 
ton.” 

No, don’t do that, I beg of you,” said Grant. Kilts 
in the daytime are a horrid nuisance, and on board ship they 
are worse.” 

“ Oh! ” said Gerty, with a scream of delight, kilts — 
how heavenly! ” 

McLeod rose to go. He was not interested in Gerty, 
and she was evidently determined to monopolize the whole 
conversation. 

You’ll come to see our Christmas tree for the soldiers’ 
children, won’t you. Lady Euskin?” said Grant, as he 
shook hands. It’s on the 24th, and I know there are some 
small naval races on the same day, hut still ” 

Oh, will you all wear kilts? ” cried Gerty. 

I am afraid not,” said Grant. 

Gerty said good-by with a sigh. 

When the two young men had gone. Lady Euskin ’ven- 
tured upon a timid remonstrance. 

“ Gerty dear,” she said, don’t you think it would be 
better not to be quite so — ^familiar — ^in your manner with 
strangers?” 

9 


126 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Gerty had seated herself near the tea table, and helped 
herself to a large slice of plumcake. She looked np with 
a frown. 

“ How absurd, mamma! she said, sharply. You 
don’t understand how people talk nowadays.” 

Miss Ruskin-Boyd spoke with the assurance of half a 
dozen seasons in town — not at all as if she had only left 
school within the last few weeks. 

Lady Ruskin looked snubbed and felt it. 

“ I wish you wouldn’t always look as if you were afraid 
I was going to say or do something dreadful,” Gerty pur- 
sued, reprovingly. I am perfectly able to take care of 
myself.” 

But, my dear child ” 

It would be much better, mamma, if you would try 
and keep your cap straight instead of scolding me,” said 
Gerty. It is nearly off your head altogether now. You 
don’t understand, mamma; all your ideas of society come 
from the days when men wore knee breeches and ruffles, 
and brought their feet into the first position and made a 
low bow every time they spoke to a girl.” 

Lady Ruskin protested feebly. 

My dear child, how old do you imagine I am? And 
you really mustn’t speak to me like that.” 

Oh, bother! ” said Gerty, pertly. 

She had a wholesome contempt for her mother’s reason- 
ing powers, and a very firm belief in her own. 

She had always been accustomed to hear her father call 
her mother a fool, and her brothers speak and act before 
her exactly as seemed to them good. 

It was a position which Lady Ruskin had partly brought 
upon herself, by her unselfishness carried too far. She 
had accustomed her husband and then her children to 
consider that her wishes were of no importance, and 
were to be considered last of all, and they had learned 
the lesson quickly and completely. It was partly her own 
fault that she was a mere cipher in her family; an ounce 
or two of wholesome selfishness would have won her 
more respect from her children and probably more af- 
fection. 

As for Gerty, she had very soon learned that her pert 


McLEOD OF THE CAMEROXS. 127 

speeches amused her father and his friends, and made them 
laugh. 

It was amusing to hear a pretty little girl in white 
frocks call for whisky and soda, or a cocktail, and have a 
sharp reply ready for everybody. 

And though the white frocks were lengthened now, 
and the golden hair twisted up, Gerty was still imbued with 
the idea that her mission in life was to make men laugh. 

‘‘What a good time I am going to have!” she said, 
drawing a long breath. “ How very, very glad I am that 
I have come out! ” 


CHAPTER II. 

One siroc afternoon Andrew McLeod was strolling 
down Strada Mezzodi, when an impulse came to him to go 
and see Mrs. Stoddart. 

He had been spending the afternoon in Yaletta, which 
was a most unusual thing for him to do. 

His company was doing field training, hut he had got 
away early, and come in to Valetta about some business 
connected with the boat races in February. He had lunched 
at the club, and then he had gone to look up Campbell at 
Elorian and Gordon on guard. He had gone up to the 
gym., and on the way he had met Grant’s brother, who was 
taking some ladies up the signal tower; consequently he 
had, to his disgust, been let in for a tea party on the Daunt- 
less next day. 

Then he had gone down to Seliha’s in the Ditch with 
another man to try a new pony, and finally at four o’clock 
he was on his way hack to Pembroke, when he suddenly 
found himself opposite th6 Stoddarts’ flat. 

McLeod had just lately not been in the best of spirits. 
That day in underground Valetta had affected him, as well 
as Campbell’s estimate of him, and the feeling that some- 
thing similar might possibly occur again would not be 
shaken off. 

The men in the regiment noticed that he was not as 


128 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


cheery as usual, and consequently more or less left him 
alone. They were the best of good fellows all of them, 
but not one was to McLeod what his friend Beresford had 
been. 

Lady Euskin was entirely engrossed with Gerty. 

Mrs. Stoddart — McLeod realized vaguely that with her, 
too, life in general had gone wrong. 

He did not think out any of these things clearly; if he 
had, he would have probably called himself a coward and 
gone straight on to Pembroke. 

He had scarcely thought of Christina since the club 
dance, hut now he remembered that she was a very friend- 
ly young woman, and that he ought to have called long 
ago. 

So he went in and walked upstairs without hesitation 
— he was not given to hesitation. 

The Stoddarts were having a happy afternoon, with 
the man from PohoomaPs Indian shop. 

He had arrived shortly after lunch, followed by an as- 
sistant, both laden with white linen packs, and Christina 
was hugely enjoying her afternoon. 

She had begun by assuring herself that there was no 
chance of visitors so early, and later on she had decided 
that in such a siroc no one was likely to he out. 

Certainly McLeod was the very last person in Malta 
she expected to see. 

He found her comfortably established on the drawing- 
room sofa, with George standing beside her in uniform, and 
evidently on the eve of departure. 

The Indian man was squatted on the floor in front of 
her, and his assistant moved from his place by the doorway 
to allow McLeod to come in. The drawing room was not 
a large one, and there did not seem to he much space for 
him to advance among the white linen packs and piles of 
tablecloths, rugs, and silver ornaments which strewed 
the floor. 

A strong whiff of Maltee greeted him as he came in. 

Christina Jumped up and shook hands across a pile of 
rugs; she looked undoubtedly glad to see him. 

''Captain McLeod, I am amazed, hut delighted,” she 
said, in her most friendly tone. " You find us in a certain 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


129 


amount of confusion, but really I have been trjdng to entice 
*this old gentleman to go away for the last hour or so.” 

DonH believe her,” said George.. “ She can't make up 
her mind, that's all, and consequently both Joe and I will 
be late for our appointments.” 

“ Oh, the ingratitude of men! ” said Christina. I am 
choosing him a surprise for Christmas.” 

I rather think it is to be a silver powderbox,” said 
George, with his loud laugh. Here, McLeod, I have man- 
aged to clear a chair for you.” 

There was no tragedy in the air. Christina's troubles 
were evidently not now in the ascendant; indeed, it seemed 
to McLeod that she looked brighter and more animated 
than she had been since the days when he had played bull 
with her on the Australia. 

He sat down rather discontentedly; he had grown tired 
of the Indian shops long ago, and was not in the humour 
to be amused by bargaining. 

The Indian man thought he had been left long enough 
out of the conversation. 

He turned with engaging politeness to McLeod, and got 
up to make a low bow. 

will show gentleman pretty cloth lady want — ^yes, 
please? ” 

I am sure I don’t want it, if you want all that money 
for it,” said Christina. “ Don't look so unhappy. Captain 
McLeod; we will do our best to send off our friend, and then 
we can have tea.” 

I don't take tea, so I am afraid that won't console me,” 
said McLeod; ^^but I am sorry I look unhappy — I don’t 
feel so, I assure you.” 

But, all the same, he watched the Indian man begin to 
unroll yet another pack, with some dismay. 

I ask very little money,” he said, turning to Christina, 
with an engaging smile. I soft — softer than butter; gen- 
tleman tell you so.” 

With which he called up his subordinate, and between 
them they displayed a lengthy cloth bedecked with gold 
and scarlet. 

Then he laid it down, and surveyed it with uplifted 
hands of admiration. 


130 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


Ail money I make go to my sweet mamma and papa 
far away,” he said, plaintively. “ But I give you this cheap 
because you good lady; I iose money for this.” 

I wouldn’t have you do that,” said Christina, laughing 
— certainly not. And I don’t want that tablecloth at all; 
I don’t like it — I wouldn’t have it as a gift! ” 

I lose money, but lady send plenty friends, and not 
tell how cheap I sell to her. See, I give you this — all this 
beautiful work — only three pounds! Just three pounds, 
lady — yes, please?” 

But Christina declined the allurement, and turned to 
consult McLeod about a pretty silver powderbox. 

And George said: Come now, Joe, you must really be 
off to-day, and come back and see lady another day. She’s 
tired of you — had enough of you.” 

A remark which the Indian man received as a huge and 
most amusing joke. 

A tablecloth, three rugs, a set of red legs, and a pow- 
derbox is quite enough for one afternoon,” said Christina, 
and George looked as if he thought it too much. 

I am sure I don’t know what you will do with more 
rugs,” he said. 

Oh, I shall easily find a use for them,” said Christina, 
carelessly. 

Then the Indian man tore himself away with much 
difficulty, and, to McLeod’s relief, it occurred to Christina 
that it would be desirable to have the French window open. 

And George with profuse apologies went off to his ship, 
his wife following his departure with an unconcealed sigh 
of relief. 

^^Now, Captain McLeod, you will find that rocking- 
chair far more comfortable,” she said; and as you have 
done such a remarkable thing as come to pay a call, you 
must pay a good long one.” 

McLeod gave her the smile which she considered the 
nicest thing about him. 

I have never thanked you for the pony,” she went on; 
it has such comfortable paces. You mustn’t think me 
rude, but I have such an abominable memory. And now 
I have more cause for gratitude, as you have saved me from 
several hours all alone with an idiotic book.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


131 


But why choose an idiotic hook? ” said McLeod. 

I shan’t again/*’ said Christina; hut my husband is 
so frightfully particular. He is shocked when I tell him 
that a married woman may read anything.” 

She had once before told McLeod that her husband was 
particular, and the difference in her tone struck him at 
once. There was half a sneer now in the way she spoke, 
and there had been none then. 

Fortunately,” she said, he never reads a hook him- 
self, and he’s going to fetch me The Heavenly Twins from 
the library this evening, under the impression that it is a 
treatise on astronomy.” 

She laughed. She had been very honest in her reading 
until now — very careful not to read those books which she 
thought George would disapprove of, foolish as she con- 
sidered that disapproval. 

But now it was all different. 

Well,” said McLeod, I suppose women do read every- 
thing in these days; but I think it is rather a pity.” 

Your wife will have pretty strict rules made for her, 
too, I can see,” said Christina, laughing; hut it is a little 
late to begin with me, as I read Tom J ones and Ouida when 
I was fifteen, though I haven’t confessed to George that I 
was so abandoned.” 

I don’t think women ought to read coarse books,” said 
McLeod, playing with his walking stick; as the world goes 
nowadays there isn’t the same danger in it for men. Be- 
sides, I know lots of fellows who read a book simply for the 
sake of the dirt in it. What would a woman be like who 
did that?” 

am not quite so far gone as that,” said Christina, 
laughing a little, though she was rather annoyed. 

I didn’t mean to say anything rude,” said McLeod, 
stroking his moustache. 

Only women never can understand generalities; isn’t 
that it?” said Christina. ^^I’ll tell you the kind of hook 
I like: no plot in particular, characters that are alive, lots 
of conversation, and a certain amount of love-making — 
because I never was in love myself. Can you believe that? ” 

Certainly — why not?” said McLeod. Everybody 
isn’t hound to fall in love.” 


132 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Did you never? 

McLeod did not like questions about himself. He moved 
impatiently and laughed. 

Never/’ he said. I daresay I was near it once or 
twice, but then in my case it was different.” 

Well, it will be very awkward if it ever happens to 
me,” said Christina, meditatively. 

McLeod considered her far too outspoken. His instinct 
was always to be silent about what deeply interested him, 
and he could scarcely believe that she was speaking genu- 
inely what came into her head. 

Do you think a girl can get on all her life without fall- 
ing in love?” she said. ^‘Nobody seems able to write a 
book without bringing it in. Do you remember, Anthony 
Trollope says he tried once with quite an old lady as his 
heroine, but do what he would, she managed to fall in love 
before the end.” 

I tried, too,” said McLeod, laughing a little. 

Christina half sprang to her feet in her excitement. 

You? ” she cried. “ Did you write? ” 

He nodded carelessly. 

He was quite unaware that he had gained a completely 
new interest in Christina’s eyes. His writing had been to 
him an amusement which he had taken up more from cir- 
cumstances than from any real love of it, during the two 
years when he had hoped to go on the stage. He had recog- 
nised his limitations, and reserved all his enthusiasm for the 
stage. 

But to Christina he had changed all in a moment from 
a commonplace young man, with red hair, a high collar, 
and rather a swaggering manner — a young man who could 
make himself very pleasant when he liked, but who did not 
always like — to the most interesting individual in Malta. 

You wrote books? ” she said, breathlessly. 

McLeod laughed. 

Nothing half so interesting,” he said. I had been 
spending money pretty freely and was rather hard up, and 
thanks to my knowing a good many literary people well, and 
not to my talents, I got a chance of doing criticisms and 
odd articles, and I liked it, and could do them decently 
enough.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 133 

^^But were you content to remain there? said Chris- 
tina. 

I did try a story once,” said McLeod. I thought 
it rubbish, and so did everybody who had the privi- 
lege of reading it. After which I recognised that 
though I could write English I wasn’t gifted with a bump 
of imagination. But that was never the way my ambition 
lay.” 

And you have never tried since you got into the 
army? ” 

McLeod’s face grew suddenly very grave. 

Never,” he said, shortly. 

Christina leaned forward, a little colour coming into 
her cheeks. 

But will you help me? ” she said. ‘‘ Oh, you can help 
me so much if you will! ” 


CHAPTER HI. 

Mr. Grant was in his element. 

He stood on the messroom steps at Pembroke, in very 
light clothes, which suited his dark, handsome face; and 
with a cigarette between his lips and a pink rose in his 
buttonhole, he was conscious that he looked very complete, 
indeed. 

He had an afternoon before him in which it would be 
his duty to squire about any of the greatest ladies in Malta 
he chose. He had prepared liis room for inspection, and 
borrowed McLeod’s Cairngorm ornaments to supplement 
his own, which were not so good, and dazzle the eyes of 
privileged visitors. 

Now he modestly imagined that he was completely 
ready, and he had established himself where he would be 
able to take stock of the visitors as they arrived. 

Half a dozen officers made their appearance from the 
messroom, and gave every sign of being struck by his mag- 
nificence. 


134 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Great Scott, Tommy! Got up regardless of expense! 
said somebody. 

“ D — n it! said Gordon, who was on duty, I thought 
I should win in a canter this afternoon, but all I have left 
to hope for now is to run a good second.” 

It’s easily seen he expects his young woman,” said 
another. 

I suppose you know that the colonel has sent round 
an order that you are to lead off the kids at ^ hunt the slip- 
per ’ and ‘ kiss in the ring ’ ? ” said Seton-Kerr. 

Grant smiled upon them calmly; he was very good- 
tempered and very much hardened to this sort of com- 
ment. 

McLeod and Captain Kennedy appeared. 

They had been busy putting the ffnishing touches to 
the Christmas tree. Captain Kennedy, as the tallest man 
in the regiment, was to perform as Father Christmas, and 
he hurried off to dress. 

“ I can see a couple of carrozzes and a dogcart at 
the far side of the bay,” said Campbell, who had rid- 
den out from Florian for lunch. There! I thought 
that would make Ananias sit up! You need not put on 
all those fancy airs for the next twenty minutes, old fel- 
low.” 

Can’t you leave me alone ? ” said Grant, good- 
humouredly; these witticisms are a trifle stale. They 
come up again smiling every few days.” 

There’s very little original talent in the regiment,” 
said Campbell. 

McLeod went off to his room. He had not got out of 
uniform, and he needed brushing and washing as well after 
his work with the tree. 

Grant appeared to have been borrowing pretty freely in 
his absence, and McLeod took the trouble of going round 
to his room, in hopes of being able to recover a few of his 
things, but he found the door prudently locked. 

When he came back to the square everything was in 
full swing. 

The pipers were performing in the mess garden, and in 
the square the band were getting their instruments into 
position, while there were groups of gaily dressed ladies 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERO^^S, 


135 


in all directions, and carriages, dogcarts, and riders arriv- 
ing every few minutes. 

McLeod had the band on his hands, and stopped in the 
square to speak to the bandmaster. 

Then, with his usual directness, he went to look for 
Mrs. Stoddart. 

As he went into the anteroom, he met Grant and Gerty 
Ruskin-Boyd coming out, and they stopped to speak to him. 

“ This is awfully Jolly,” said Gerty, radiantly — almost 
as good as a dance.” 

Grant laughed. 

IBs not McLeod’s idea of bliss,” he said; we tell him 
off to take all the old ladies in to tea when we have a tamasha 
of any kind; he prefers it.” 

“ Well, I am looking for a young lady this time,” said 
McLeod. Do you know if Mrs. Stoddart has arrived. 
Tommy?” 

Can I believe my ears ? ” said Grant. 

Why, you mean my old schoolfellow, Chrissy Lori- 
mer?” said Gerty. “I have Just been talking to her — 
she’s having a very good time in there.” 

Of course, I had forgotten she was at school with 
you,” said McLeod. 

Well, I didn’t see much of her,” said Gerty, because 
she was so much older. And I daresay I shouldn’t remem- 
ber her at all, only once when I had bronchitis she used to 
come up after school and sit with me, and hold my hand, 
and tell me the most ripping stories. It was rather good of 
her, wasn’t it? and I haven’t forgotten it.” 

I’m quite equal to being as good,” said Grant. 

Will you tell me stories this afternoon? ” 

“ Yes, and hold your hand, too,” said Mr. Grant, kindly. 

McLeod passed on. 

Mrs. Stoddart was talking to two or three men, and see- 
ing this, he thought he would not speak to her Just then; 
hut she saw him, and gave him such a welcoming bow that 
he changed his mind. 

Would you like to come and see the mess plate? ” he 
said, in answer to her eyes. 

He was quite aware that he was spreading amazement 
among the surrounding group, and rather enjoyed it. 


136 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Nobody had gone in to tea as yet; the governor and his 
wife were expected, and they were waited for. Conse- 
quently, McLeod and Christina found they had the mess- 
room to themselves. 

I shall have to go and see after lighting up the tree 
in a minute,” said McLeod, “ so we must he quick. Mrs. 
Stoddart, would you let me turn that story into a play? ” 

Christina stared at him. 

It has got into my head, and I am sure it would act. 
I had a good deal of practice in that sort of thing long ago, 
and I think I could do it.” 

Then you think it is ” 

“ Very strong. Only a few characters are absolutely 
needed, and I could get the Florian theatre, or, for that mat- 
ter, why not the Manoel.” 

Christina listened to him in breathless joy and excite- 
ment. She had never seen him eager before, and she was 
surprised to see how all his fair, resolute face changed and 
lighted up. 

I Tcnow it would act,” he went on. Burlesques every 
regiment takes up, but ” 

So this is the plate. You can tell me vdio presented 
everything? ” 

McLeod looked round hastily to find what this sudden 
change of conversation meant, and saw George coming over 
to them. 

He went on in a changed voice: 

I am afraid I can’t. We lost all our plate up the Nile in 

the Egyptian campaign, and this is only How do you 

do?” 

George came up, walking with every part of his body, 
and particularly his shoulders, as he always did, and with 
a beaming smile. 

Well,” he said, in a would-be jocund tone,' I was 
under the impression that this show was to be a Christmas 
tree for soldiers’ children; but where are the children and 
where’s the tree? ” 

The tree is in the sergeants’ mess, and you will very 
soon see both it and the children,” said McLeod. 

Then, in the meantime, come on, old girl, till I show 
you round the camp,” said George, gaily. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 137 

Thank you,” said Christina, Captain McLeod is go- 
ing to do that.” 

She did not look at him as she spoke, being quite aware 
that he had not the least intention of doing anything of the 
kind. 

Come out and listen to the band, then.” 

“No, thank you, George,” said Christina, still very 
sweetly. “ It would he quite unheard of for a husband and 
wife to go marching about together.” 

George was completely unused to a repulse from his 
wife. He looked disconcerted. 

McLeod said nothing. He stood still and balanced his 
cap on his walking stick with an air of complete abstraction. 

“ The fact of the matter is,” said Christina, cheerfully, 
“ that I want to speak to Captain McLeod about some- 
thing.” 

George was much taken aback. He tried to laugh. 

“ Oh, in that ca^e he said. “ Secrets from your 

husband — that wonT do, young lady! ” 

But he looked rather crestfallen as he went away, and 
Christina almost repented and called him hack. 

When he was gone, she raised her eyes to McLeod’s and 
found he was looking at her. 

A faint colour came into her cheeks. 

“ He doesn’t know,” she said. 

McLeod must understand a good deal now, and she 
realized this with a certain relief. 

“ Then it wouldn’t do to act it? ” was all he said, after 
a pause. 

“ That needn’t prevent you,” said Christina; “ I am not 
afraid of him. It is only because he hates me to write, and 
I hate rows, so it seems better to say nothing. But I don’t 
care if he finds out. I am not afraid.” 

“ He hates you to write? ” 

“Yes; he thinks as men used to think a generation 
ago — that a woman should do nothing hut sit at home and 
do crochet work. He is just a generation behind, as — all 
— ^his — class — are,” Christina ended slowly, and again she 
fiushed as she met McLeod’s eyes full. 

He himself would never have spoken so plainly. 

“ He was shocked — horribly shocked — ^by that story,” 


138 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


she said. Should you have been, in his place, if I had 
been your wife? ” 

Perhaps I shouldn’t have liked it — I don’t know,” said 
McLeod. “ A man is narrow-minded about his own 
women.” 

You are truthful, at least,” said Christina, if not 
flattering.” 

She was hurt by his plain speaking, hut she felt she 
had no right to show it; he had only answered her ques- 
tion. 

McLeod returned to the point. 

But may I turn it into a play? ” he said. Will you 
help me? It wouldn’t interfere with the story in any way, 
and there’s acting in it.” 

I couldn’t help you, I am afraid,” said Christina, shak- 
ing her head; but of course I should be glad. Only ” 

Another interruption came here. 

Campbell put in his head at the door. 

“ Tommy, you tall fellows are wanted to light up the 
tree,” he said. 

suppose I must go,” said McLeod. Look here, 
Mrs. Stoddart, will you talk the story over with me? I 
should like to put both our ideas of it together. Couldn’t 
I come and see you some day, or we might go for a ride 
perhaps? ” 

Very well,” said Christina. 

Will you send me a line when it suits you, then? ” 

They had been walking toward the messroom door as 
they talked, and were so near other people that she only 
nodded. 

Campbell came up immediately. 

Now, Mrs. Stoddart,” he said, if you please you must 
bestow a little attention upon me. I never thought it an ad- 
vantage to he short before.” 

Everybody was in the anteroom or the garden except 
Grant and Gerty Ruskin-Boyd, who had completely dis- 
appeared. They were not to be discovered anywhere. 

They did not make their appearance even when tea was 
over, and all the rest of the guests were assembled on a 
platform at one end of the sergeants’ mess to see the Christ- 
mas tree. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


139 


Lady Ruskin made their absence more marked by her 
anxious inquiries. 

She demanded news of her offspring plaintively from 
everybody. 

She had brought Gerty to Pembroke and lost her im- 
mediately, and she had been restlessly unhappy about it 
all afternoon. 

Lord Ruskin, on the contrary, took matters with great 
philosophy, and, having found himself a seat on the plat- 
form between Lady Eva Wrench and Christina, he declined 
to further exert himself. 

Christina saw McLeod in the distance, distributing pres- 
ents to the children, hut that was all she did see of him; 
he did not reappear in society. 

When George proposed to go, after the tree, she was 
quite ready. 

Lady Ruskin fluttered up as they were saying good-hy 
to the colonel’s wife. 

“ Mrs. Stoddart, have you seen Gerty anywhere about? 
It is quite time we were starting.” 

Never you mind Gerty,” said Lord Ruskin, with a 
laugh; " you may he sure she is perfectly happy, and she 
is not my daughter if she has not got somebody to take care 
of her.” 

But Lady Ruskin knew that when the Wrenches left 
he would not he so lenient. 

I am sorry I haven’t seen her,” said Christina; ^^hut 
there is the magic lantern still.” 

Lady Ruskin shook hands forlornly. 

But everybody is going,” she said, and it will he so 
dark when we get home, with all those hills. If you see 
her, would you mind telling her that we are going? ” 

As they were driving through the gate of the square 
they did meet Grant and Gerty, and had the carriage pulled 
up to give Christina’s message. 

Gerty was looking very pretty and radiantly happy. It 
was always windy at Pembroke, and her fair hair was a little 
ruffled, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining 
with excitement. 

"" Going home? Absurd! ” she said. I am not going 
till after the magic lantern.” 


140 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


‘^Certainly not,” said Grant. ^^Why, you have spe- 
cially engaged me to hold your hand if you are frightened 
in the dark.” 

So don’t let us go near mamma,” said Gerty. 

^^You are a cool young lady, I must say,” remarked 
George. 

Gerty stared at him coldly. 

“ Good-by for the present, Chrissy. I am coming 
over to see you immediately,” she said, jumping on the 
step of the carrozze to give Christina a schoolgirl kiss. 
“ Come along quickly, Mr. Grant, or we shall he caught.” 

Christina liked to hear the old school name again, and 
it softened her to Gerty. 

‘^It is a shame of Mr. Grant to make a fool of that 
child,” she said, hotly. 

She is very well able to take care of herself,” said 
George; why, she’s as hold as brass.” 

He was not in the best of humours. He had not en- 
joyed his afternoon very much; he had met none of his 
friends, and he was conscious that he had not been a suc- 
cess. 

Look here, Kitty,” he said, “ why did you speak to 
me like that in the messroom? What were you talking to 
McLeod about? ” 

Ah,” said Christina, carelessly, that’s a secret.” 

I don’t like you to talk, even in joke, as if it were pos- 
sible for you to have secrets from your husband, with an- 
other man,” said George. 

Don’t let us talk about it, then,” said Christina. 

^^Well, what was it about?” said George, persistently. 

I never knew men were so curious,” said Christina. 
^^What were we talking about? The mess plate, for one 
thing; and he asked me if I would go for a ride with him; 

and There’s no more about your going to the Levant, 

is there? ” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


141 


CHAPTER IV. 

‘^Shut up, will you?’^ said McLeod; ‘Uhe fellows on 
the stage can’t hear themselves spealv! ” 

McLeod had dined Campbell at the club, and Camp- 
bell had dined not wisely, and was inclined to be noisy, 
which made him unwelcome behind the scenes. 

They were at a smoking concert at the gymnasium. 
Most of the Camerons considered it too much of a journey 
from Pembroke to attend these Saturday functions, hut 
McLeod was generally due, either as stage manager , or to 
perform. 

This evening he had a song and a duet in the second 
part, hut at present he had nothing to do, as the Rifles were 
acting a small burlesque. 

Campbell belonged rightfully to a party among the 
audience, hut, as it consisted largely of ladies, McLeod was 
advising him under the circumstances to remain where 
he was, and he was protesting, rather too loudly. 

am not so beastly screwed as all that,” he remon- 
strated, indignantly. ^^Now I put it to you. Bones, I’m 
fit to walk a chalk line.” 

You will walk out of this, if you don’t hold your jaw,” 
said McLeod. For Heaven’s sake, go and get yourself 
sober if you are going to sing Round the Town with me.” 

It was Campbell’s one failing. He was a thorough little 
gentleman, excellent company, and in every other way a 
good fellow. It was a pity. 

McLeod thought the best thing he could do was to 
leave him alone, and he strolled over to the stage door, 
where he had a good view of the audience. He liked society 
very much from a comfortable distance. 

He was very stalwart and upright in his tight-fitting 
mess jacket and trews. His plain, strong face, coupled with 
his known dislike of society, attracted all women, and there 
were a good many girls there that evening who looked at 
him with interest, and would have liked to know Captain 
McLeod very much. 

As for him, he much preferred his present position to 
a seat among the audience, and, having attended a couple 
10 


142 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of rehearsals, he had no curiosity about what was going on 
on the stage. 

He liked better to watch the faces of the audience, and 
amuse himself by noting those who were interested in the 
play, and those whose attention was completely distracted 
by the people they sat beside. 

The room was closely packed, as it always was, with a 
foreground of ladies’ dresses and officers’ uniforms, and a 
background of soldiers and sailors and their womankind, 
dimly visible through a cloud of smoke. Soldiers and sail- 
ors lined the galleries, too, and in all cases they were the 
most interested, the most ready with applause. 

McLeod watched an eager man in the gallery; he leaned 
forward, his arms on the railings, his face a picture of 
shifting feelings, utterly engrossed and oblivious of all 
around him. How much more thoroughly, how enviably 
they took their enjoyments in that class. 

His eyes travelled along the front rows, and he ex- 
changed a bow with Lady Eva Wrench, who was sitting 
between her brother and a tall sailor. Had Grant entirely 
deserted his allegiance? 

Yes, there he was, near the end of the fifth row, seated 
next to Gerty Ruskin-Boyd, and with every appearance of 
belonging to the Ruskin-Boyd party. 

McLeod frowned, by no means well pleased. 

He looked round for Mrs. Stoddart, but could not see 
her. However, it was quite possible she was there never- 
theless, for his position was too low to command the room. 
His thoughts wandered off to that projected play to which 
thoughts of Christina were only a pendent. 

Could it be managed as he wished — could it be thor- 
oughly well done? That remained to be proved, and if it 
could not, it should be given up altogether. But, having 
taken it in hand, he had not seriously the smallest inten- 
tion of giving it up. He had not had such an interest in 
life for many a long day. 

There was a fellow coming out for his health who had 
been at Eton with McLeod, and had since gone on the 
stage. He would help him, he felt sure, and any necessary 
scenery could easily be got out from London. Yes, he 
would do it. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


143 


An outburst of applause roused him to the fact that the 
first part of the evening’s performance was over. 

There was a certain amount of movement; a good many 
men made their way out of the room for a little fresh air 
and a cigarette. 

Grant came up to McLeod. 

D — n it all! ” he said, you have the best of it. Those 
cane-seated chairs in trews are the very devil.” 

Especially when you have to sit with your feet doubled 
up under your chair and without room to wink,” said a man 
in the Eifles, who had just come up. 

God made me with legs,” said another, who had been 
acting, and so I never accept an invitation to join the 
audience at the gym.” 

I say, have you and Lady Eva had a split. Tommy? ” 
said Campbell, who had propped himself against the wall 
just inside the stage door. 

Grant gave a gratified laugh. 

Not at all,” he said. She had the cheek to tell me 
the other day that I was making her conspicuous, and must 
talk to some one else, so I have taken her at her word — 
that’s all.” 

What a howling cad he is! ” said McLeod, under his 
breath, to Campbell. 

The others laughed. 

And, by Jove! I am making the running with a real 
smart little girl now Grant began. 

McLeod touched his arm. 

That will do,” he said. 

Eh? What? ” said Grant, looking considerably taken 
aback. I wasn’t going to say any harm. What I really 
came to know was if you would ride with Mrs. Stoddart to- 
morrow, J orrocks. Miss Euskin-Boyd and I want a couple 
of gooseberry-pickers.” 

Sorry I can’t possibly,” said Campbell; I’m on guard 
to-morrow, worse luck.” 

I will, if you like,” said McLeod. 

Hold me up, somebody! ” said Grant. Ho you feel 
ill. Tommy? ” 

Don’t be an ass! ” said McLeod. 

But he was a little thoughtful. If this play was to go 


144 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


on, he must of necessity and also in the commonest civility 
see something of Mrs. Stoddart. And would not the small- 
est attention on his part make her talked about at once? 
More talked about than if a man like Grant were to go 
down on his knees to her in the middle of Strada Keale. 

With a husband who was not of her own class, people 
would be even especially ready to talk in her case, and would 
he not be as bad as Grant if, with his eyes open, he gave 
rise to this? 

As for Grant, it was all the same to him whether Camp- 
bell or McLeod came, and having settled the matter satis- 
factorily, he went back to his seat and retook it gingerly. 

Gerty received him joyfully. She thought him the 
handsomest and smartest man she had ever met, and felt 
sure, that every other girl in the room must envy her the 
attentions of this delightful being. 

Probably Grant thought so, too. 

Is it all right about the ride?’^ she said, as he was 
trying to dispose of his legs, which were inconveniently 
long. 

It’s all arranged,” he said. 

Chrissy will go? That odious husband of hers came 
over to talk to me just now — the impertinence of the man! ” 

Gerty dear! ” Lady Ruskin remonstrated, from her 
neglected position on one side of her daughter. 

Gerty’s clear, loud young voice carried to some distance. 

She took no notice further than an impatient move- 
ment. 

He is odious,” she said to Grant; look at him, stroll- 
ing about as if the place belonged to him! How can she 
endure him? ” 

It’s a most romantic story,” said Grant, exactly as he 
had said to Lady Eva Wrench a month ago. 

But the story as given to Gerty had received consider- 
able additions and improvements. 

McLeod’s appearance on the little stage interrupted 
him in the middle, and distracted Gerty’s attention. 

Oh, there’s Andrew! ” she cried, so loudly that several 
people turned round to look at her. 

Then came a thunder of welcome from the soldiers and 
sailors. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


145 


Goodness, what a row! said Gerty; and Andrew 
has to stand there all the time! Doesn^t it make him nerv- 
ous? ” 

Grant lighted a cigarette. 

McLeod nervous? He doesn’t know what it is! ” he 
said. There was a faint suggestion of a sneer in his voice; 
he was always jealous of McLeod. 

He must sing awfully well,” said Gerty. 

Nothing remarkable,” said Grant. “ It’s the soldiers 
— they always give him a tremendous ovation. He’s slw- 
fully popular among the men; they think the sun rises and 
sets on him.” 

More popular than the others? ” 

"" Oh, I suppose he is,” said Grant, unwillingly. No 
other fellow could he bothered to take all the trouble he 
does. He’ll put himself out to any extent for the men. I’ve 
seen him drop polo to umpire at a fool company football 
match. But any fellow could be just as popular if he took 
the trouble.” 

I suppose so,” said Gerty. “ I wish they would stop 
and let him sing.” 

“ He’s done one good job, anyway. He’s turned a ser- 
geant of his company into a steady soldier from something 
very much the reverse, the Lord knows how. And now 
I think he had better devote his attention to his particular 
friend Mr. Campbell, who is as screwed as an owl at the 
present moment. Wait till you see him come on to sing 
Bound the Town with McLeod.” 

Hush! ” said Gerty. 

McLeod had a fairly good and well-trained voice, and 
he was perfectly at his ease. He sang his song and was en- 
cored, and later on he and Campbell sang a duet in coster 
costume. 

Then he was free, and he went over to talk to Lady 
Euskin, who was sitting forlornly near the end of her row, 
very dull and very sleepy. 

^^Well, dear?” she said. 

You seem to he having rather a slow evening. Cousin 
Amy,” said McLeod. I am afraid you don’t think much 
of your first smoking concert? ” 

It is not very much what I care for,” said Lady Kus- 


146 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


kin; of course I liked to hear you sing, dear. But Gerty 
was very anxious to come.^^ 

She looked at her daughter timidly, hut Gerty was just 
then completely engrossed by Grant. 

Yoii brought Grant with you, I see,” said McLeod. 

I am not quite happy about Gerty,” said Lady Bus- 
kin, lowering her voice. Mr. Grant seems very pleas- 
ant; but, Andrew, she is so very young.” 

McLeod stooped down, and answered her in a very low 
tone. 

I wanted to say something to you about it,” he said. 

It will be a great pity if Gerty gets herself talked about 
with him. He^s more than a bit of an outsider.” 

Oh, dear, what shall I do ? ” said Lady Buskin, in 
dire distress. You see the way things are. He sent her 
those flowers this afternoon. Is it serious, do you think? 
She is so very young.” 

Serious! If he had not been sorry for her, McLeod 
could have laughed. 

He sends flowers to dozens of girls,” he said. It is 
only a way of his — ^it doesn’t mean anything.” 

But she may think it does,” Lady Buskin said, “ and 
she won’t listen to me.” 

“ I am sure it would be better not to let her see much 
of him,” said McLeod. 

Lady Buskin looked at him helplessly. That was so 
very much more easily said than done with a young woman 
like Gerty. 

“ I am very much worried about it,” she said. 

McLeod felt the conversation had better stop for the 
present. If Gerty was engrossed to deafness. Grant was 
not, and there were plenty of people who knew Lady Bus- 
kin in the rows both in front and behind. 

Besides, he did not see what good he could do. He had 
gone so far as to express his opinion of a man in his regi- 
ment, a thing he did not care to do, but he could not pos- 
sibly take the place of Gerty’s mother. 

He went back to his stand by the stage door, after dis- 
covering that Christina was well wedged in the middle of 
a row and quite beyond possibility of speech. 

At the end of the concert he made his way to the door 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 147 

of the gym., to see her on the way out, and say the few 
words which he considered politeness required. 

He stopped her as she passed him with her husband. 

You are going to ride to-morrow with Grant and 
Gerty Ruskin-Boyd, aren’t you?” he said. I asked 
Grant if I might come too, and he referred me to you.” 

I shall he very glad if you will come,” said Christina, 
looking pleased. 

Then will you ride Tommy III again? I can send 
him in to Seliha in the morning, and come and fetch you 
whenever it suits you.” 

Oh, thank you! ” said Christina, with shining eyes. 

That’s settled, then,” said McLeod; “ will it do if I 
call about half past two ? I don’t think I could well get in 
sooner, because of the field training; hut we could settle 
to meet the others somewhere.” 

It will do splendidly,” said Christina. 

McLeod bowed, and turned away to look for somebody 
to go out to Pembroke with him. 

George pulled Christina’s cloak. 

What was he saying to you? ” he asked. 

Only settling about a ride to-morrow,” said Chris- 
tina. 

Why, Kitty, you had promised to come to tea on hoard 
with me.” 

“ So I had. I am really sorry, George; I forgot all 
about it. But any day will do for you, won’t it? ” 

George made none of his usual comments on the people 
they had seen on the way home. He was very silent and 
thoughtful. 


CHAPTER V. 

^^What is the meaning of all this, Kitty?” said 
George. 

Christina was sitting in the drawing room, dressed and 
ready for her ride with McLeod, and very happy in the 
prospect. 


148 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


She looked up tranquilly on George’s hasty entrance. 

What is the matter? ” she said, with much calm- 
ness. 

I should like to know what under the sun you are 
fitting up the lumber room for.” 

Christina laughed. A very observant person might have 
detected a trace of embarrassment in her manner, but poor 
George was not very observant. 

My dear hoy, didn’t I tell you I should find a use for 
those rugs? ” she said, lightly. 

But what does it mean? ” said George. You never 
told me you wanted to furnish that room. Do you expect 
anybody to stay? ” 

“ I am like the White Knight in Alice through the 
Looking-Glass,” said Christina, with elaborate carelessness. 

You know he always carried about a beehive in case he 
met with a swarm of bees. There is nothing like being 
prepared for everything.” 

But ” 

Oh dear! Don’t you know women are unreasoning 
beings, and never have a reason for what they do ? I have 
just written to my mother, George; will you, like an angel, 
give my letter to the cook, and tell him to post it, or it will 
miss the mail.” 

Good heavens, you don’t expect her? ” said George, 
hastily. 

Don’t he a goose, I expect nobody,” said Christina. 

George looked puzzled. 

Well,” he said, with a sigh, I don’t understand what 
has happened to you, Kitty. You are so different.” 

^^Why, you are getting fanciful!” said Christina. ‘‘1 
do wish, dear, you would take off your cap and put out your 
pipe when you come into the drawing room.” 

George said Pooh! ” impatiently. He hated having 
his comfort interfered with. 

He walked to the window and back again, fuming and 
threading his fingers through his beard, one of the many 
habits which nearly drove Christina to distraction. 

I know you call me ‘ dear ’ oftener than you used to 
do,” he said, but, all the same, you are not half so nice 
to me, Kitty” — a speech which so completely astounded 


McLEOD OF TEE CAMERONS. 


149 


Christina that she simply sat and stared at him without at- 
tempting any reply. 

She felt it was extremely obliging of McLeod to make 
his appearance just then. 

George came downstairs to see them off, still in a gloomy 
frame of mind. 

While McLeod was looking after Tommy Ill’s girths, 
and lengthening the stirrup, he drew Christina aside. 

Kitty, you aren’t going alone with that fellow?” he 

said. 

^^You know I’m not — ^though I don’t see why I 
shouldn’t. But we are to meet the others.” 

But you are starting alone; everybody in Yaletta will 
see you. I don’t like it.” 

I don’t see what is to he done, unless you come and 
run alongside,” said Christina, impatiently. Then she was 
sorry, and added cheerfully: Do something amusing while 
I’m away, dear. Couldn’t you get the Whites to go some- 
where? ” 

Something in George’s face as they rode away made 
McLeod look at Christina curiously, and she had not an ab- 
solutely clear conscience. 

Undoubtedly, according to what he knew, George was 
absurdly unreasonable. 

But it was a lovely afternoon; there was sun enough 
to make everything look cheerful, and a deliciously mild 
breeze, and Tommy III walked and trotted to perfection. 
It was impossible not to be in good spirits. 

Nevertheless McLeod seemed to be in one of his unap- 
proachable humours. He apologized for the presence of the 
three dogs, and then he subsided into a silence which Chris- 
tina’s social conscience made her feel it necessary to break 
every now and then. 

McLeod and Grant had arranged to ride slowly on as 
far as Hamrung, where the first arrivals were to wait for 
the other two, and further arrangements could be made; 
but just before McLeod and Christina reached the begin- 
ning of the Hamrung road, Grant and Gerty overtook them 
at a hand-gallop, which made McLeod congratulate him- 
self that Gerty was not riding one of his ponies. 

He congratulated himself still further when they came 


4 


150 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


up, and he saw how exceedingly crooked his cousin’s seat 
was, whereas Christina was as straight and upright as could 
he, and knew almost as much about horses as he did. 

Gerty was in glorious spirits. 

Good-morning, Chrissy! ” she shouted; this is better 
than French exercises and conversation from, three to 
four! Good-morning, my well-heloved and worthy cousin. 
Mr. Grant and I have settled that we are going to tea with 
Mr. Seton-Kerr at Civita Yecchia.” 

But Captain McLeod and I have settled otherwise,” 
said Christina. Do keep your pony a hit off, Gerty. 
Civita Vecchia is much too far off these dark afternoons.” 

McLeod fully agreed. 

“ Cousin Amy wouldn’t like you to he out so late,” he 
said, and inwardly he added, “ and P. P. C. would have a 
very sore hack.” 

All Gerty’s dimples came into sight. 

Mamma would think I was lost! ” she said; hut she 
is always fussing, and she might as well have something to 
fuss about. She wasn’t a bit pleased at my coming to-day, 
was she, Mr. Grant? She has marked you: ‘Dangerous; 
only to be taken in small doses.’ ” 

“ But her daughter hasn’t, has she? ” said Grant, in a 
low voice. 

“ So I may as well be hanged for a sheep,” said Gerty. 
“ I shouldn’t mind if we rode round the island, and weren’t 
home till midnight.” 

“I hope Grant is less ambitious,” said McLeod. 

“ Supposing we go to San Antonio gardens and on to 
Casal Lia for tea?” Grant proposed. 

“ Are you young people not aware it is quite dark at 
five o’clock?” said McLeod. “Let’s be content with San 
Antonio for this afternoon.” 

“ I did want to have mamma think we were lost! ” said 
Gerty, regretfully. “ Well, at anyrate we’ll gallop on to 
San Antonio and wait for you there. I can’t bear crawl- 
ing.” 

“ By Jove! Grant, they’ll take you for a sailor! ” said 
McLeod, with a laugh. 

Christina looked after them as they clattered through 
Hamrung. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


151 


How queer it is! she said; if my mother had been 
as fond of me as Gerty’s I should have worshipped her, and 
Gerty only thinks it a bother! ” 

“ It does bother her a bit, you know,’^ said McLeod; 
and she’s been used all her life to see her father slight her 
mother.” 

She always would have her own way, even as a little 
thing at school,” said Christina. 

“ Because her father has half spoilt her,” said McLeod, 
^^and now Grant is going to complete it. Poor little 
soul! ” 

He would not say to a stranger what he had said to 
Lady Ruskin about Grant. 

She’s fond of you,” he went on, after a moment’s 
hesitation; couldn’t you give her a hint to keep him in 
his place? ” 

A string of gocarts and carrozzes separated them and 
prevented Christina from answering. 

When they met again she did not answer his question 
directly. 

Don’t you think she is more lucky, after all, to have 
a chance of happiness, even with misery to come after, than 
if she had only a sort of dead level before her, without either 
one or the other? ” she said. 

She was so obviously thinking of herself that he an- 
swered her as if she had said so, with a certain amusement 
in his tone. 

Isn’t there any happiness in the world unconnected 
with falling in love ? ” he said. 

Without falling in love? — perhaps, I hope so. But 
not without love of some kind. With most people there is 
somebody they love better than the rest of the world. Isn’t 
there somebo^ like that for you? ” 

McLeod received a question about, himself rather un- 
graciously as usual. 

If you want to make it a personal question,” he said, 
^^may I ask, don’t you feel happy when you are writing? ” 
Christina’s face brightened. ^^Ah, yes!” she said — 
yes, I can shut out every outside thought. But don’t you 
think if we went to the bottom of that happiness, it is love 
' — ^because I love the people I am writing about? ” 


152 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


No, I don’t,” said McLeod, in his bluntest manner. 

It is because you are not thinking of yourself.” 

His plain speaking was always rather startlingly plain. 

I suppose you mean that I am frightfully selfish,” 
said Christina, sharply. 

McLeod started. 

I am sure I beg your pardon,” he said. I told you 
I wasn’t fitted for society. I think that you are very, very 
fortunate to feel as you do about your writing.” 

Fortunate! ” said Christina. “ When I’ve a broken 
promise on my conscience every time I write — when all I 
can do is to snatch at the chance of an odd time when 
George is out, do you think I am so fortunate? ” 

“ Aren’t you going to tell Stoddart ? ” said McLeod, 
very gravely. 

They were walking their ponies along soberly side by 
side, and the others were quite out of sight. 

Do you think I ought to tell him? ” said Christina. 

I have never been married,” said McLeod; you must 
know best.” 

I shall, if there is any chance of a misunderstanding. 
I shan’t keep the mystery up at the expense of everything, 
like people in a hook,” said Christina, with a laugh. “ Don’t 
you hate to read about misunderstandings which a single 
glimmer of sense on the part of anybody would clear up? 
What sort of an ending could he made out for us, do you 
think? ” 

‘^We should fall in love, unquestionably,” said Mc- 
Leod. 

Christina had no intention of falling in love with Mc- 
Leod, or of his falling in love with her; she liked him, hut 
without any sentiment. He was scrupulously polite to 
her, and sometimes even friendly, hut always she had a 
sensation of being held at arm’s length, which was neither 
pleasant nor flattering. 

Still she thought it was rather cool of him to speak as 
if anything hut friendship was such an utterly impossible 
and ridiculous contingency. 

She laughed and said that that was too obvious an end- 
ing to be artistic, and then suggested that they should 
trot. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


153 


McLeod lighted a cigarette, and they rode the rest of 
the way to San Antonio in silence. 

P. P. C. and Fantoche were being walked np and down 
outside the garden by a couple of hoys, and Grant and 
Gerty were discovered beside one of the fountains, teasing 
the goldfish by throwing little bits of stick to them. The 
goldfish were never enlightened by experience, and in- 
variably, convinced that they had just been provided with 
a choice titbit, rushed in a body to secure shares. When 
they discovered that they had been again deluded, they 
appeared to lose their tempers and became quarrelsome at 
once. 

McLeod had his pockets full of lumps of sugar for 
Nur-el-din, and one of them gave great satisfaction to the 
injured goldfish. 

Then they walked about the garden, and Grant and 
Gerty got lost with the utmost promptitude. 

Christina had been wondering ever since they started 
when McLeod was going to speak of her story, but it was 
not till they had walked round the garden and found 
a seat for themselves to wait for the others that he 
began. 

Then he discussed it with her in a businesslike manner 
that filled her with pride and excitement. He talked of the 
characters as if they were real living people to him as well 
as to Christina; he made suggestions and gave her his 
opinion as to the changes necessary for putting the story 
on the stage, with a knowledge and love of his subject which 
she could appreciate, though she was completely ignorant 
of all professional technicalities. 

She could not help saying: I wonder very much you 
gave up the stage. Did you get a military madness? 

I don’t care for the arm}^ and I never did,^^ said Mc- 
Leod, without volunteering an explanation; acting was 
the one thing I ever had an enthusiasm for, though there 
are other things I should have liked — to live at home and 
go into the House, for instance, had matters been differ- 
ent.’^ 

^"But you wouldn’t have liked London life, surely,” 
said Christina; ^'you would have had to go into society 
then.” 


154 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I don’t admit that/’ said McLeod, drawing circles on 
the ground with the end of Ms whip; hut, in any case, 
would you be surprised to hear that I really like going out 
very well? ” 

Christina certainly was surprised, but she did not 
say so. 

Instead, she suggested that it was quite time for them 
to start, especially if it was her duty as chaperon to see 
Gerty home; so they went to look for the others. 

Nevertheless it was nearly dark when they reached 
Sliema, and they found Lady Ruskin in a state of much 
anxiety. She had already fluttered two or three times up 
and down the road to see if they were in sight, and bad 
sent the butler some way toward Yaletta. 

Gerty was a little ruffled when her mother rushed out 
into the porch at the sound of their horses’ feet. 

“ Mamma, how can you be so absurd! ” she said. Did 
you imagine I had eloped or broken my neck? We’ve had 
a most festive ride, and Mr. Grant is going to take me out 
in a gocart on Sunday. It’s all right, I assure you — a go- 
cart is quite proper. He sits in front and I sit behind, with 
a rail between us! ” 

“ The rail settles it! ” said McLeod, laughing. 

Gerty was by this time on the ground. 

“ And you’re to bring me to tea on guard to-morrow, 
and we’ve planned lots of picnics. Get off, Chrissy; you 
must come in and have tea,” said Gerty, all in a breath. 

But Christina refused. It was already nearly dark, and 
she wanted to get home. 

Grant asked McLeod what he meant to do, and finding 
that he was going to leave his ponies in Valetta, and have 
them sent down to meet him at the Marsa for polo next 
day, he decided to remain where he was and ride back to 
Pembroke. 

So McLeod and Christina rode back together. 

Christina was wondering to herself as they rode out 
of Sliema where the line of difference between Miss White 
and Gerty was drawn. 

Was it her surroundings or her well-made dresses, her 
youth, and her pretty face that saved Gerty from Miss 
White’s vulgarity and offensiveness? Or was it the inde- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


155 


finable difference in her way of doing and saying things 
that to some extent excused her? 

She had plenty of time to think over it, for McLeod 
and she hardly talked at all on the way home. 

They went by a short cut along a lane, which rather 
delayed them than otherwise, as they had to climb up and 
down a steep hill, and it was quite dark when they got to 
the Strada Mezzodi. 

McLeod would not come in, so Christina said good-by 
and ran upstairs very cheerfully. 

George was in the drawing room, for once not smok- 
ing, and, what was equally strange, he was to all appear- 
ance too engrossed in a book even to look up when his wife 
came in. 

Well, dear,’’ said Christina, in a most amiable tone, 
I hope you haven’t been dull? ” 

He made no answer. 

I hope you haven’t long been reduced to reading,” 
said Christina, laughing. What did you do all after- 
noon? ” 

It is of very little consequence to you,” said George, 
in a queer voice. 

Christina stood still and stared at him. 

What on earth is the matter? ” she said. 

He got up and walked over to the fireplace, turning to 
face her with a very angry expression. 

Once for all, Christina,” he said, I won’t stand it. 
What sort of an hour do you consider this to come in? ” 

Six o’clock — my dear George! ” 

Six o’clock, and black darkness, to be riding about 
with a fellow — not that I approve in the daytime.” 

What difference does it make whether it is dark or 
daylight ? ” said Christina. My good George, I am going 
to change my habit, and you must please have become sensi- 
ble by dinnertime.” 

But in her heart there was a misgiving. Was he going 
to make even the slightest friendship with McLeod impos- 
sible by becoming jealous? And if he was so unreasonably 
ready to be jealous, was it because it was beginning to dawn 
upon him that his wife’s feeling for him was nearer dislike 
than love? 


156 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


What a pity it all was! In his own class, George might 
have made some nice girl very happy indeed, and been very 
happy himself. It was hard upon them both. Christina 
would have given all she possessed in the world for a hope 
of ever growing to care for George. 

All her life she had longed so much for somebody to 
love and care for. Her mother and father had left very 
little opening for love; hut at first she had given them a 
distant worship, which lasted till she found out how very 
differently all the other little girls she met were treated, 
and realized that it was not the custom for all fathers and 
mothers to be neglectful and indifferent. 

Then she had transferred the first place in her affec- 
tions to her governess, who had been very fond of her pupil, 
but later on had gone away and married, when, with babies 
of her own, her letters to Christina had gradually dimin- 
ished in length and number. 

At school she had had enthusiastic adorations for one 
or two girls — a worship which was generally unexpressed, 
and brought her much joy and misery. 

A kindly word — a sign of friendship — on the part of 
one of her idols was enough to content her and keep her 
in a state of thrilling happiness for days, but it was equally 
easy to reduce her to complete misery. 

After she left school came George, and that very hurried 
and very foolish marriage of hers; and then for three 3^ears 
and a half he had taken the highest place on the pedestal 
which must be raised for somebody, and she had been con- 
tent with calmer friendships. 

How she felt very desolate indeed. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Well, Jorrocks, what has happened? ” 

Happened? I’ll tell you; may I be d — d if he hadn’t 
clean forgotten! ” 

There was a general outcry. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


157 


It was a cold afternoon at the end of January, and eight 
men had been waiting for the last half hour by the boat- 
house at Pembroke — waiting for McLeod, who was stroke, 
and who had himself arranged the practice. 

They had been shivering and cursing freely. 

Finally, Campbell had gone to see what had happened 
to the delinquent, and had returned in breathless indigna- 
tion with the information that McLeod had completely 
forgotten them. 

Everybody was cold and wrathful. 

The Lord knows what has come to him lately! ” said 
Gordon. Is he in love or has he taken to private drinks? 

Ananias is an authority as to love,” said Campbell. 

And Jorrocks here as to drink,” retorted Grant, 
promptly. 

IPs that show of his that’s to come olf at the Manoel,” 
said Seton-Kerr. 

Perhaps he’s shirking; its sure to be rough when we 
get out of the bay,” suggested Campbell, by way of making 
a good joke. 

Seriously, he’s not a bit like himself,” said Gordon; 
he’s as right as a trivet one minute and frightfully down 
upon his luck the next.” 

And how riled he was at mess last night with Grant 
about nothing at all,” said McFerran, who was trying to 
warm his hands by clapping them together; he’s usually 
such an easygoing chap, nothing puts him out.” 

He’s down on his luck all round,” said Campbell; 
he was like this just after Beresford’s death — do you re- 
member? Awfully queer! ” 

You’re wrong about one thing,” said McFerran, 
gravely; as far as my memory helps me, it was not after 
Beresford’s death, but before/^ 

During the pause that followed McFerran’s remark 
McLeod made his appearance, in great haste and full of 
apologies. 

They rowed round to the quarantine harbour, getting 
a good tossing by the way, and there they came across a 
boatful of Rifles, also practising, and were invited ashore to 
the Manoel for refreshments. 

McLeod seemed as full of the coming race as anybody. 

11 


158 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


If there were other things in his head, he put them aside 
resolutely. 

He, like the rest, speculated as to whether the gunners 
or the Welsh were likely to bring off the victory, and half 
acknowledged to dire forebodings, due to the confound- 
edly good form those Maltee fellows showed. 

Later on, when they were back at Pembroke, and he 
and Campbell were walking up to the messroom togeth- 
er, Campbell asked him about his show at the Ma- 
noel.” 

‘‘ I hope all is going on wheels,” he said. - 

^^Far from it,” said McLeod; ^^iPs the very mischief 
to get everything to fit in. The two women’s parts were 
what stumped me for ever so long.” 

“ Why, the place is full of women,” said Campbell, 
lighting a cigarette. 

But not, so far as I know, of women that can act,” 
said McLeod. If it hadn’t been that some people I know 
very well — an actor and his wife called Bell — are coming 
out for his health, I needn’t have attempted it. If I 
had asked some strange lady to personate a divorced 
woman, for all I know she might have screamed and 
fainted! ” 

" More likely have jumped at it,” said Campbell. 

If she had, it might have been just as awkward, in 
case her acting had turned out a failure. I couldn’t 
have got rid of her, probably she wouldn’t have stood be- 
ing coached, and our private interviews might have raised a 
scandal.” 

Campbell laughed. 

I see,” he said. The whole business bristles with 
difficulties.” 

Bell’s wife was on the stage till he married her, and is 
a fair actress,” said McLeod. ^^Bell himself will do the 
stage management, I shall have a slight part as husband, 
and it will be easy to get a fellow or two as servants, and 
so on. But there’s another woman wanted — the daughter 
who finds out her mother’s history. I have been racking 
my brains over that.” 

And ? ” 

I am rather afraid of making the whole thing into a 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 159 

farce,” said McLeod, looking at Campbell, dubiously. I 
am thinking, J orrocks — thinking seriously — of turning you 
into a girl.” 

Campbell .burst out laughing. 

There!” said McLeod, ‘‘I thought so. I suppose it 
won’t do.” 

Do! ” said Campbell. It’s excellent — capital! What 
a pretty girl I shall make! Do you expect me to shave my 
flowing moustache and let my hair grow? ” 

You can shave off the few hairs you call your mous- 
tache if you think they can be seen,” said McLeod, with 
flne sarcasm. 

Then he was silent, to allow Campbell time to think 
over his suggestion. 

It had indeed been made quite as much for Campbell’s 
sake as for the sake of the play. It would be a great thing 
if he could get him thoroughly interested in anything — 
better and more helpful than any amount of preaching 
temperance, and preaching of any land was not in McLeod’s 
line. 

Football and smoking concerts had given him his flrst 
hold over his men. 

You must be chaffing,” said Campbell; it’s all very 
well in a comic thing, when if you are awkward it’s all the 
more amusing. But I should make a very queer sort of 
young woman in a tragedy. How on earth should I man- 
age my legs or my petticoats? ” 

You would have to learn, of course,” said McLeod, 
quite seriously. You can manage it, if you choose — at 
least I think so. You can act, if you will make up your 
mind not to play the fool.” 

Good Lord — I couldn’t! ” said Campbell. “ At least 
tell me you haven’t to make love to me or anything of that 
sort.” 

Great Scott, no, man! I’m. your father!” said Mc- 
Leod. Think it over, my good chap, think it over, and 
make up your mind if you’re prepared to work up your part 
well and take it seriously. I am in a crowd of difficulties. 
We can’t possibly be ready before Lent begins, and then 
Mi-Careme is the only time we can choose, because the 
Bells are going on to Egypt before Easter.” 


160 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod wrinkled up his brows meditatively. He rather 
enjoyed difficulties. 

“ Then there’s music. There’s a break-down of 
Grant’s ’’ 

“ What? In the middle of a tragedy? ” 

Played slowly it’s most awfully pretty and melan- 
choly, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be arranged for the 
band. I wish you would undertake that, and speak to 
Grant and the bandmaster.” 

You will do it far better,” said Campbell, and you 
will have plenty of time now field training is over, even if 
you go to garrison class. I suppose you will ? ” 

McLeod shook his head. 

“ Well, your majority isn’t so very many years off, and 
you couldn’t be stationed anywhere where there is less to 
do,” said Campbell. 

McLeod hesitated. 

am thinking of sending in my papers,” he said, 

slowly. 

They had been walking very slowly, and Campbell now 
came to a dead stop. 

Bones! ” he exclaimed, in utter consternation. 

McLeod did not look at him. 

“ Why, nil the better for you,” he said; a step will go 
in the regiment.” 

“ D — n the step! ” said Campbell, with great fervour; 
^^what do you mean? You’re just the fellow who ought 
to stick to the service. You have money enough, and 
everybody knows you are sure to get on. If it was a poor 
devil like me, now, who never has a penny to bless himself 
with, and who can’t keep straight — but you! ” 

Don’t,” said McLeod — you don’t understand.” 

I certainly don’t,” said Campbell, vehemently. I 
understand that there is not a man in this regiment, or as 
far as I know in any other, who is worshipped by the men 
as you are. You know not only your company, but the 
whole regiment would go through fire and water for you. 
If any fellow has a career before him it is you. You can’t 
mean to be such a d — d fool! ” 

You don’t imagine I want to sit down for the rest of 
my life with my hands folded,” said McLeod, bitterly. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


161 


And with every chance of a row in Egj^pt ” 

My God! said McLeod, in a very low voice, if only 
that would come — ^in time! ” 


CHAPTEE VII. 

Christin'a was in the drawing room with ink and paper 
and pens in front of her, but for once in her life she did 
not find it easy to concentrate her ideas. 

George was disposed of on board ship for the next few 
hours, and there was no need to think of him. She had 
provided for him his favourite dinner, she had sewed but- 
tons on his coat, and given a basketful of his socks to Caro- 
line to mend; she had undoubtedly earned the right to 
forget him for a little. 

But he would come uncomfortably between her and her 
hero, who was a thorough gentleman and very much in 
debt. This last item had been added to his troubles in re- 
membrance of an annopng array of small bills which had 
sent George off that morning in an extremely bad temper. 

Christina was beginning to realize that one’s point of 
view with regard to bills altered very much when it was 
considered necessary to pay them. 

But if she got money for her stories she could trium- 
phantly clear them off herself, and then surely George would 
be content. She was rather inclined to look upon his dis- 
like of debt as a praiseworthy but bourgeois weakness, and 
it still failed to trouble her personally. 

George and she had been upon decidedly uncomfortable 
terms lately. 

The debt trouble had been preceded the evening before 
by a much more serious one, about — nothing at all, in 
Christina’s opinion. 

Miss White had invited herself down to afternoon tea, 
and during the course of this she had casually informed 
George that she had christened Mrs. Stoddart’s favourite 
canary “ Andrew,” after Captain McLeod. 


162 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


This excellent joke, whether innocently made or not, 
scarcely seemed worthy of much attention, nevertheless, as 
soon as they were alone, it had given rise to enough had 
language to send Christina indignantly out of the room. 

McLeod’s name had become, quite unreasonably, a sort 
of red rag to George. 

Against her will, it was growing clear to her that her 
friendship with him would have to he dropped in the in- 
terests of peace. 

Life in constant expectation of a quarrel was impossi- 
ble — ^not that the quarrel was ever more than one-sided. 
If George became angry, she never retorted; if he used 
strong language, she went out of the room; she hardly ever 
disputed his fiat, and when she did it was with the utmost 
good humour; after any outbreak of temper on his part, 
she was always perfectly amiable and unreproachful next 
time they met. Could an angel behave better? 

Was she not always ready to go out when she would 
much rather have stayed in, or to stay in when she wanted 
to go out, according to his wishes? Did she not decline 
Lady Eva’s invitations because he was slighted, and, with 
the exception of the Ruskin-Boyds, devote herself entirely 
to his friends — even including the Whites? Was she not 
making up her mind to give up the only man she had cared 
to make a friend of in Malta? 

What an unreasonable conscience she must have that 
would not he content with all this contemptuous kindness! 

Certainly in this she might he wrong; she was begin- 
ning to think that a past deceit on George’s part was little 
excuse for a present one on hers. Perhaps it was his right 
to he told that she had broken her promise, hut at least 
she must wait for her explanation till his temper was a little 
less easily ruffled, and till this play of Captain McLeod’s 
was over. 

It would undoubtedly he very awkward to tell Captain 
McLeod that they must cease to he friends because her 
husband was causelessly jealous. 

He had been so very kind. He had taken so much trou- 
ble to find Christina an agent in London to whom she could 
send her stories when they were written, and who could be 
trusted honestly to do his best to push them. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


163 


And they had become so intimate as the result of dis- 
cussion over their play. They had discussed and disputed 
and grown hot and eager over it every time they had met 
for the last month, and even McLeod’s reserve had not been 
able to resist the consequent intimacy. 

Christina heard somebody admitted at the flat door, and 
hastily shoved away her papers and went to the glass to 
see if her hair was tidy and her collar straight. Then she 
re-established herself on the sofa in a more decorous if less 
comfortable position, took up a book, and was ready. 

When she saw it was McLeod, her face brightened. 

Well? ” she said, holding out her hand. 

McLeod shook hands, and found himself a chair with 
his usual deliberation. 

I have brought you a letter to say that both your 
stories have been sent to publishers — ^not quite as good as 
being accepted, but still something,” he said; “ and I have 
left Campbell in dire trouble over his petticoats. Would 
you let him come to you for a hint some day? ” 

Of course he can, but not this morning. I feel too 
depressed all round. Have you anything to recommend as 
good for low spirits? ” 

When I feel that things are absolutely unbearable, I 
have a whisky and soda and a pipe, and go and play polo 
or take out the boat,” said McLeod. 

There was no being mistaken as to Christina’s feelings; 
happiness made her completely pretty, depression showed 
itself in every line of her straight, young figure. 

I couldn’t do any of those things,” she said, so I 
proceeded to make myself gloriously miserable for the fifti- 
eth time over the Light that Failed; and then, when I 
stopped reading and tried to write, my hero proceeded to 
get himself into such a hideous muddle that I don’t see any 
way out unless he follows Dick’s example and commits sui- 
cide. I am glad you look less almighty and more friendly 
than usual.” 

^^Let me help you with your hero,” said McLeod; 
there’s a way out of most things.” 

But there wasn’t in Dick’s case, was there? I was just 
reading about when he went blind, and they brought Maisie 
to see him.” 


164 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod nodded. 

remember,” he said. 

But if I had been Torpenhow I would have managed 
better,” said Christina. If they had shaved Dick and 
brushed his coat, it might have made all the difference. 
How could there be any romance about a man with a bristly 
inch of beard? ” 

That’s a poor sort of affection, surely,” said McLeod. 

Then after a pause he added gravely, more as if he was 
speaking to himself than to Christina: He was lucky to 
find that way of ending his life. Do you think it was 
wicked? ” 

“ Ho,” said Christina, of course I do not. Some lives 
get too hard to face.” 

You understand that?” said McLeod, very seriously. 

But it is generally a woman’s life. If I were a man — 
if only any amount of wishing could make me change places, 
for instance, with you 

McLeod interrupted her with a sudden sharp exclama- 
tion. 

Don’t say that! ” he said, roughly. Good God! you 
don’t know what you are saying! ” 

He spoke as if he were afraid she might be taken at her 
word, and Christina was a little startled at his vehemence. 
When she had first met him she had been certain that some- 
thing special had gone wrong with his life, and had specu- 
lated about it, but latterly, as she had come to know him 
in a commonplace way, the fancy had almost faded out of 
her mind. 

What a fool I am! ” he said, after a long pause, 
have often wished,” said Christina, and they both 
understood her words as an answer, that you would tell 
me something about yourself. I tell you all sorts of things, 
but you never tell me anything. Will you? ” 

McLeod was some time over his answer. 

I wish I hadn’t said anything,” he began, slowly. I 
hate a fellow who makes a howl over his troubles. You 
have been so kind that if it would do any good I would tell 
you. But — I am afraid. To tell you the truth, I hate the 
thought of telling any one. If I did, it would change 
everything.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


165 


You can’t think much of me as a friend.” 

It is just because I think so much of our friendship 
as it is that I don’t want to make a change,” said McLeod. 
‘‘ You couldn’t help it. Only don’t say anything like that 
again — like wishing to be me,” he ended, earnestly. 

He got up as he spoke, and held out his hand to say 
good-by. It seemed a matter of course that he should go 
just then. 

Christina was left alone to wonder. 

What had made him speak like that? SKe did not 
think he was a man to let a hysterical remorse for his 
friend’s accidental death cloud his whole life. Unless — 
was it ‘possible that Beresford’s death was not in reality 
accidental? 

On the Australia she had woven for herself a little ro- 
mance to account for the sadness in McLeod’s eyes. Sup- 
posing Beresford and he had cared for the same girl, might 
not a sudden temptation have come to McLeod a week be- 
fore the marriage, leaving remorse behind it for the rest of 
his life? 

But neither did this solution seem to her satisfactory. 

She heard George’s latchkey before she had found a 
better one, and hurriedly proceeded to find a safer refuge 
than the sofa cushion for her manuscript. 

She prepared herself for more reproaches and perhaps 
an explosion when he heard of McLeod’s visit, hut George 
did not look angry. 

He came forward, colouring a little and looking strange- 
ly shy. 

Kitty,” he said, a little anxiously, ^Hhe violets and 
roses are lovely this morning. Would you care f6r a basket- 
ful? I told the fellow to send some round, and I brought 
you a little bunch myself.” 

Christina stared at him in amazement. 


166 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

There are very few people in the world who can he 
content to hug a trouble to themselves all their lives, with- 
out human sympathy. 

To most there comes a time when some one must he 
told— when it is unbearable to he any longer out of touch 
with every human being; to whom confidence is given de- 
pends largely upon chance. 

McLeod was a very reserved man. He had borne in 
absolute silence for ten years, and he had full confidence 
in his power to bear as long as it was necessary. 

But one morning he woke up feeling he could stand it 
no longer. He must tell somebody. 

That somebody semed naturally to he Mrs. Stod- 
dart. 

He thought of Campbell, hut to a man it would have 
been harder to speak; he thought of Lady Ruskin, hut she 
was engrossed with her daughter. 

There was only Christina left. 

What right had he to bother her with his trouble? 
Hone; hut then there was no one in the world to whose sym- 
pathy he had a right. And the thing must he said. 

McLeod, having realized this, and realized that only to 
Christina did he feel it possible to speak, asked himself 
no more questions. 

He rode into Valetta as soon as he could get away from 
barracks, and went straight to Strada Mezzodi. 

The Stoddarts were on the roof. George and Miss 
White had Organized a joint and chilly tea party there, and 
invited a few kindred spirits. 

Perhaps, if he had not been shown up as a matter of 
course, McLeod would not have faced it, hut more prob- 
ably, having once made up his mind, he would. 

But after he had politely drunk a cup of tea, he drew 
Christina away from the others, not unwillingly. 

Since his last outbreak, now several days ago, George 
had been very much on his good behaviour, and he was 
also for the moment very well amused and very happy. 

McLeod and Christina crossed the roof, and stood side 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. IGT" 

by side looking down into the street, a little apart from the 
others. 

The other day/’ said McLeod, you asked me to tell 
you about myself. Well, I should like to tell you some- 
thing to-da}^ if 1 may.” 

If you may! ” said Christina — of course you may.” 

It isn’t a very amusing story,” said McLeod. 

He swung himself up on the low parapet, sitting with 
his face towards the street for a few minutes of silence. 

Then he turned and faced Christina. 

Mrs. Stoddart,” he said, would you mind — ^it’s just 
a fancy of mine — looking at me while I tell you? Did you 
ever know any one with a mortal disease — any one who 
could do nothing but wait and wait, and feel every day 
worse than the day before ? ” 

Never.” 

I am condemned to worse than that. You wouldn’t 
notice much difference between me and other fellows? 
Well, they’ve all something to look forward to, and — ^have 
you ever been over a lunatic asylum? — that is what I have 
before me.” 

Christina knew that she started. 

They were practically alone. She could just see George 
and Miss White, at the other side of a tall chimney, amus- 
ing themselves with the engrossing pastime of trying to 
play knucklebones with bits of lime, and she could hear 
them laugh and a murmur of their words. 

I am going mad,” said McLeod, distinctly. He found 
a certain odd satisfaction in saying the words out brutally. 

Instinctively Christina shrank back. 

He gave a short, bitter laugh. 

There’s no need to be afraid,” he said. 

She answered impulsively. 

I should not be afraid to be anywhere with you. But 
I am so sorry — so terribly sorry.” 

There was a long silence. McLeod was restlessly pick- 
ing little bits of mortar off the wall, and, obviously uncon- 
scious of what he was doing, throwing them down into the 
street below. Christina found herself anxiously watching 
over the unconscious sentinel, and wondering how much 
longer he would escape. 


168 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod was again the first to speak, fashioning his 
sentence boyishly. 

It is rather hard lines, isn’t it? ” he said. 

^‘It is the cruelest thing I ever knew,” said Chris- 
tina. 

^‘It has come between me and everything. My one 
idea from the time I was old enough to have an idea was 
to go on the stage, and I loved the life even from the first. 
But a year after I had got my way came an illness, and 
they told me I must give it up and sent me to Wolfram’s 
to cram for the army. But they never told me the truth — 
I suppose they meant to he kind — not till after Beresford’s 
death. I forced it out of my mother then.” 

Christina started. 

“ You may have heard the others speak of Beresford,” 
McLeod said, “ and perhaps how he was killed. But none 
of them know the truth. It is a terrible thing to have the 
murder of your best friend on your soul, even though you 
did not know what you were doing.” 

Christina drew a long breath of horror. It seemed ter- 
rible to stand here, only a few yards away from a cheerful, 
careless party, and hear the tragedy of a man’s life. 

How did he live his life and talk and laugh like other 
people with this thing alwa3^s in his mind? 

She drew a little nearer to him with an impulse of S3rm- 
pathy. 

All I can do now,” said McLeod, is to wait. Every 
morning when I wake up I wonder — will it come to-day? 
And every night I ask myself, have I spent my last day 
as an equal among sane men? But I suppose it will come 
more gradually.” 

I shall feel it as an honour — always — that you have 
I told me,” said Christina, softly, hut I feel so useless. If 
I could only help you! ” 

Will you be always afraid to he alone with me now? ” 
said McLeod, giving her a long look. Of course you will, 
and of course you’ll say you will not. Don’t you see that 
it is hard to tell what makes one — however kind people 
may he — ^into a sort of pariah.” 

Try me,” said Christina — try me, and see if I am 
not always glad and proud to be with you.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


169 


“ Thank yon for saying that/’ said McLeod. Then he 
saw how white her face had grown. 

I have been a brnte to tell you this/’ he said. I shall 
never forgive myself if yon worry over what can’t he helped. 
Mrs. Stoddart, I really am trying to face it like a man, and 
you have helped me.” 

“ I don’t believe it can he hopeless — it can’t he hope- 
less! ” said Christina, with pain in her voice. She was so 
sorry for him, so dreadfully sorry. 

“Well,” said McLeod, “it has come twice, and once 
again — very nearly.” 

He saw himself back in underground Valetta, with a 
native by the throat, and the joy of crushing — crushing! — 
out a man’s life. What would have been the end of it if 
he had not saved himself by a sudden blind instinct of 
flight? 

As he moved the sunshine fell full upon his face, and 
there came a sudden look into his eyes which startled Chris- 
tina. Would she in future ever he able to help watching 
him furtively? 

Before either of them spoke again, George and Miss 
White came up. 

“Do let me teach you to play knucklebones. Captain 
McLeod,” said Miss White, in her most jovial tones. 


CHAPTEK IX. 

“ I MUST get an old gentleman for mamma,” said Gerty, 
nodding her pretty head meditatively. 

She had ordered her mother to bring her to the Ma- 
noel Theatre to see a burlesque performed by the Berk- 
shire. 

To Lady Euskin there was a ring of impropriety about 
the very name of the Manoel, and her consent, even on this 
special occasion, had been reluctantly wrung from her. 
Fortunately, Aladdin as a burlesque did not afford much 
opening for the mildest impropriety, and the Berkshire 


170 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


had no desire to shock their friends and admirers, and had 
only engaged the Manoel because of its convenient size. 

McLeod had dined at Sliema and come with the Rus- 
kins, and at the end of the first act Grant and a number of 
other men had come up. 

Gerty was rather a success in her way; she was amus- 
ing and she was very easily amused. And men are given 
to follow each other after a somewhat sheeplike fashion. 
So, one or two having set the example, quite a group had 
now congregated. 

The little box was only supposed to hold four, and that 
with no room to spare, hut the rest had established them- 
selves in the open doorway, thereby admitting a draught 
which Lady Ruskin found by no means agreeable. 

She had been talking to McLeod, and was roused by 
Gerty’s last remark in her clear young voice. 

She remonstrated feebly as usual. 

“ What are you talking about, Gerty dear? ’’ she said, 
in consternation. 

“ Nothing, mamma,’’ said Gerty. I was only saying 
that I must look out an old gentleman to drive with you. 
We are going to have a big picnic, either to Musta valley 
or right away to Boschetto. We have all got to find some- 
body to ride with, and you are to drive and bring the pro- 
visions.” 

“Miss Ruskin-Boyd wants everybody to bring some- 
thing,” said Campbell, in explanation. “I am ready to 
undertake anything, and I have been able honestly to 
recommend Grant for yaU de foie sandwiches.” 

“ Who has got a hit of paper? ” said Gerty, eagerly; 
“ I want to put everybody down. Mamma, we can bring 
the teacups and cream and cakes. Mr. Campbell, I’ll put 
you down for jam; Mr. Grant, sandwiches ” 

“ Supposing each couple brought something between 
them? ” suggested Campbell. 

“What a very matrimonial arrangement!” Gerty ex- 
claimed. 

Then everybody laughed, and she suddenly blushed 
furiously. 

“I don’t see what there is matrimonial about sand- 
wiches, for example,” said Campbell. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 171 

Gerty recovered her normal colour and her tongue very 
promptly. 

We must have Mrs. Stoddart to ride with Andrew,” 
she said, but the question is, who on earth are we to get to 
ride with Mr. Stoddart?” 

“ What is all this planning about, my dear child? ” said 
Lady Ruskin, mildly. I haven’t heard anything of this 
picnic before.” 

If I am not to go out in Lent, I intend to vanish with 
a flourish of trumpets,” said Gerty; “ we are going to have 
a great afternoon. Papa shall provide lots of champagne, 
and we are going to take three banjos and two guitars and a 
zither. If we go to Boschetto, wouldn’t you like us to stop 
and dine with you at Civita Vecchia on the way hack, Mr. 
Seton-Kerr? ” 

Mr. Seton-Kerr said he should he charmed, hut looked 
rather dismayed, as he well might, money with him being 
by no means too plentiful. 

Then the next act began, and there was a general de- 
parture from the box. 

Grant remained, taking the fourth seat in a matter-of- 
course way. 

Lady Eva Wrench was just opposite, but it never oc- 
curred to him to go and speak to her. His way of doing 
things was always complete: when he devoted himself 
to a girl and when he dropped her he went in for no 
half measures, after the fashion of less courageous peo- 
ple. 

He leaned forward to talk to Gerty in a low voice, bring- 
ing with him a whiff of scent, and bending his smooth, 
close-cropped head conspicuously near to hers. 

He would have given an indignant denial if any one 
had accused him of behaving badly to either Lady Eva or 
Gerty. 

He had not made love to them, certainly not — that is to 
say, not seriously. He had not said a word which could 
be so construed, and he constantly deplored his poverty. 
It was not his fault if either failed to understand clearly 
that he could not afford to marry. 

So he gazed tenderly into Gerty’s eyes, and made the 
most of their necessary proximity, without being troubled 


172 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


by any prickings of conscience. It was only a pleasant epi- 
sode, and he had gone through so many similar ones. 

But Gerty^s radiant look brought an ache to her moth- 
er’s heart. 

It was pitiful or amusing, according to the onlooker, 
to see how desperately Lady Ruskin strove to make Grant 
talk to her, and with what undisguised indignation Gerty 
viewed her attempts. 

Grant saw it all and was amused. 

In public the attention seemed to be chiefly on Gerty’s 
side — how it was in private was another matter. 

As for Gerty, she did not think at all — she was content 
to be happy. If she had considered the matter, she would 
have been quite sure that everything would go on com- 
fortably just as it was, and that, whatever happened, 
nothing could interfere with her friendship and Mr. 
Grant’s. He was undoubtedly her property; he had 
neither words nor thoughts for anybody else, and he had 
been very much annoyed because she had danced three 
dances running with Mr. Campbell at the admiral’s the 
other night. 

When the play was over, who could have been more at- 
tentive than he was? He put on her cloak, made her hold 
by his sleeve to keep them together on the way downstairs, 
and was much annoyed when a man stepped on her dress 
and tore the flounce. 

McLeod attended to Lady Ruskin, whose one idea was 
to hurry as quickly as possible after her daughter. 

Grant and Gerty had had the grace to wait at the theatre 
door, and here Lady Ruskin surprised herself and McLeod 
by taking quite a decided step. 

Good-night, Mr. Grant,” she said. 

I am coming to see you over the ferry, if I may,” said 
Grant. 

“ Oh, thank you; I couldn’t think of troubling you,” 
said Lady Ruskin, with unwonted firmness. Andrew will 
see us home. Good-night. Come, Gerty dear.” 

But it is on his way ” Gerty began, indignantly. 

Grant is going to the club,” said McLeod, decidedly. 

Gerty, don’t keep your mother waiting in the cold.” 

Gerty lingered ostentatiously in her farewell. Then she 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 1Y3 

walked to the ferry, a little behind the other two, in stony, 
rebellions silence. 

She had been looking forward to crossing the hay in the 
moonlight all evening, and now — ^it was too selfish, too un- 
kind of her mother! 

What a miserable girl she was, and how cruelly she was 
treated! 

Nobody cared for her pleasure — nobody minded if she 
was disappointed — except Mr. Grant. 

She answered her mother’s timid, apologetic attempts 
at conversation with stern monosyllables. 

When they reached home she gave McLeod a brief and 
ungracious good-night and ran upstairs. 

Lady Ruskin drew McLeod into the morning room. 

Andrew,” she said, what am I to do ? How am I to 
stop this? If Mr. Grant goes to Lord Ruskin, he will laugh 
at him — I know he will, though I can’t get him to inter- 
fere now.” 

“Grant won’t go to Lord Ruskin,” said McLeod. 
“ Cousin Amy, he is one of those fellows who consider that 
so long as they don’t actually propose to a girl they are clear 
of all responsibility.” 

McLeod spoke indignantly; he was very angry with 
Grant. 

Lady Eva had been able to take care of herself, hut this 
child — his own cousin — was different. 

That afternoon, riding from Sliema to Valetta by the 
short cut, he had come upon Grant and Gerty together, 
and Campbell bore witness to having interrupted an inter- 
view, which might or might not have been accidental, at 
the library, and another, of all places in the world, at Jen- 
kins the dentist’s. 

“ I am afraid people must — talk,” said Lady Ruskin, 
with hesitation. 

“ I am afraid they do,” said McLeod. 

“ And of course it loohs as if it was my fault,” said 
Lady Ruskin, piteously; “but I can’t keep her at home 
when invitations come, and wherever we go we meet 
Mr. Grant; and how am I to prevent her from speaking 
to him? Perhaps in Lent, as we shall not be going 
out ” 


12 


1Y4 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I am not sure that that won’t be worse/’ said McLeod; 
you see, she will have no one else to think of ” 

You are a Job’s comforter, my dear,” said Lady Rus- 
kin, with a troubled little sigh. 

After all,” she began again, it would be a had match; 
hut if the child’s heart is set on it ” 

McLeod sighed. How could he make her understand 
without brutality that in his opinion Grant was the last 
man in the world to wish to marry a girl who was practically 
penniless? 

Then there are the masked halls. Gerty has been 
talking about them already.” 

That’s all right,” said McLeod. Ho English officers 
are to be asked on any consideration whatever. Grant told 
me so himself. He went to Zorab’s this morning to try 
and get an invitation. It’s rather a joke, too, for he and 
five or six others have got their dominos and masks all 
ready! ” 

Lady Ruskin heaved a sigh of relief. 

It was the one small crumb of comfort which McLeod 
was able to give her. 

After he had gone she went upstairs slowly, and made 
a pause full of hesitation at Gerty’s door before she decided 
to knock. 

Gerty had begun to unfasten her dress; she had sent 
her maid to bed after her thick fair hair had been brushed 
and arranged for the night. 

She faced round upon her mother with eyes full of re- 
proach, and a manner and attitude which was clearly meant 
to express that she was waiting impatiently to know what 
on earth Lady Ruskin could want. 

“ I came in, Gerty,” said her mother, timidly, to ask 
you about this picnic.” 

Oh, it doesn’t matter at all,” said Gerty, in the voice 
of a martyr; “ I suppose you disapprove. Of course, it can 
easily be given up.” 

My dear, I don’t want you to give it up at all — why 
should I ? Let us plan about it, Gerty. ' I am quite willing 
to do my best.” 

Gerty was irresponsive. 

I think it will be better if we provide the tea alto- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


175 

gether/’ Lady Riiskin went on, don’t yon? And after 
Lent we might have a dance in the house. I am sure papa 
wouldn’t mind.” 

Papa always wants me to have a good time,” said 
Gerty, with a slight, reproachful emphasis on her father’s 
name. 

“^^And I suppose I don’t?” said Lady Ruskin, with 
laboured playfulness. “ We could have a very good dance 
in this house, couldn’t we? And the weather will he 
warmer.” 

In spite of herself, Gerty’s eyes brightened. It was 
very difficult to keep up her just indignation in face of a 
dance. 

‘‘ I should like it,” she admitted, almost cordially. 

Then Lady Ruskin proceeded to spoil her success as 
she always did. 

She never managed to choose a judicious moment for 
remonstrance. 

And don’t you think, darling, it would he better for 
you to ride with some one else to the picnic ? It’s better to 
make a change, you know.” 

Gerty stiffened promptly. 

^^Ride with some one else? I don’t see why I should 
give up riding with Mr. Grant just because you have taken 
a prejudice against him.” 

Lady Ruskin sighed heavily. 

When shall I he able to convince you that I am able 
to take care of myself! ” said Gerty, with dignity. 


CHAPTER X. 

Gerty came into the drawing room in a very pretty 
pink frock, with a burnt straw hat trimmed to match, and 
a brown coat and shoes and sunshade. 

She looked very pretty and fresh and obstinate. 

Mamma,” she said, I am going in to Yaletta.” 
Lady Ruskin’s work had been relegated to a bedroom 


176 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


drawer as hideous, her songs had been condemned, and she 
found time hang rather heavily on her hands. She was 
reading over the tire, and looked up from her book to view 
her daughter with mingled admiration and misgiving. 

Are you, dear?^^ she said. “I will go in with 

you.” 

‘‘Now, mamma, why should you?” said Gerty, impa- 
tiently. “ It’s a cold afternoon, and you know you hate 
crossing the ferry, and you would never have time to dress 
for the opera this evening. Do you imagine I am not capa- 
ble of going to the Strada Eeale to buy ribbon by myself? ” 

“ Take Agatha with you, then,” suggested Lady Rus- 
kin, without much hope. 

“ I can’t go about Strada Reale with a maid trapesing 
after me,” said Gerty, bringing down the point of her sun- 
shade vigorously upon the carpet, not in anger, hut to show 
that her decision was unshakable. “ You know other girls 
don’t. There’s Eva Wrench ” 

“ She is a good deal older than you are,” said Lady Rus- 
kin, apologetically. She did not by any means consider 
Lady Eva a desirable model. 

Gerty tossed her head. 

“ I can’t and won’t take Agatha,” she said. 

Lady Ruskin looked at her helplessly. All her children 
had had their father’s strong will in the merest trifles; all 
of them had invariably taken their own way, and Avith this 
youngest one she felt least of all able to cope. She felt so 
old, so Avorn-out, to he the mother of a child like Gerty. 

A note for Miss Ruskin-Boyd had come in at lunch that 
day, Avhich Gerty had received Avith a fine blush and a de- 
fiant look at her mother, as if daring her to ask any ques- 
tions. 

Lady Ruskin Avas observant where her child Avas con- 
cerned, and uncomfortably connected the note with her 
present wish to go into Yaletta. Grant’s name was seldom 
if ever mentioned between them. 

Gerty had pulled on one glove, and she began to but- 
ton it. 

“ I shall go to see Chrissy Stoddart,” she said. 

“ You Avere there a feAv days ago,” said Lady Ruskin. 

Gerty fired up at once. “ I think it is rather hard that 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 177 

you should want to prevent my seeing the only girl I like 
in Malta/^ she said. 

Personally, Lady Ruskin had found Christina pleasant. 
She would have been only too thankful that Gerty should 
make her a friend had circumstances been different. But 
almost necessarily Mrs. Stoddart must see something of her 
husband’s friends, and did Gerty once get entangled with 
this set, there was no saying, with such an uncontrollable 
young woman, what might happen. 

You must ask Chrissy to dinner on the 18th,” Gerty 

said. 

But, Gerty dear ” 

Oh, I know her husband is an awful outsider. But 
she ” 

I can’t ask her to dinner without asking him, you 
see, dear.” 

I am sure she wouldn’t mind,” said Gerty; she 
would be only too glad to get away.” 

But I don’t think it would be doing her any great 
kindness to separate her from her husband.” 

“ Well, I do hate snobbishness,” said Gerty; if I were 
she I would not stay with the man another hour, I know 
that! I should go off with the first available person — An- 
drew or anybody. In any case I am going to tea with 
Chrissy this afternoon.” 

Which somewhat inconsistent and involved remark left 
Lady Ruskin with only strength to call after her daughter 
feebly an entreaty to he home before dark. 

It must be in some way her fault that Gerty was so 
entirely disrespectful and disobedient. Ought she not, on 
this and on many other occasions, have gathered courage 
to put a distinct veto on Gerty’s proceedings, though by 
doing so she might throw away the last hope of making 
the child fond of her? But, then, supposing Gerty refused 
to obey, or betook herself to her father, who was absolutely 
certain to say the opposite thing? Then matters would 
only have been made worse. If trouble came of all this, 
everybody, including Gerty herself, would be certain to say 
that Lady Ruskin was to blame. What could she do? 

But there was never a trouble in Gerty’s pretty head 
as she walked up Strada Reale to the library. 


178 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


She had no time to think. It was quite joy enough to 
be alive, to have something amusing to look forward to 
every day, and the handsomest and smartest man in Malta 
— ^in her opinion and his — as the first victim of her how 
and spear. She even found a little private exhilaration in 
the idea of being talked about by the Valetta world in con- 
nection with such a glorious individual. 

She had been in the reading room for about ten min- 
utes, and had exchanged whispers with a half dozen girls 
of her acquaintance, when Grant put in his head. 

According to custom, everybody looked up with a single 
impulse. 

He came across to Gerty’s sofa at once. 

He rather enjoyed his saunter through the room in full 
observation, and his consciousness that everybody under- 
stood the whole matter as well as he and Gerty did. 

People were probably speculating hoAV long this new at- 
tachment of his would last, and whether Gerty really cared. 
He knew they said already that the way she was behaving 
was scandalous — very bad form — extraordinary that her 
mother should allow it. 

Gerty was engrossed in the Malta Chronicle, with a little 
affectation of not having seen Grant till he was close be- 
side her. 

“ Great Scott! she said, you! You needn’t imagine 
your note had anything to say to my coming; I was com- 
ing in any case.” 

It was necessary, by the rules of the reading room, to 
speak in a whisper. 

Of course,” said Grant, softly. I only hoped for the 
chance. It brought me in all the way from Pembroke.” 

That was very silly of you,” said Gerty. Are you 
coming to dinner on the 18th? ” 

Of course I am,” said Grant, reproachfully; “ and are 
you coming to tea at Bizzazza’s with me now? ” 

I don’t know,” said Gerty, shaking her head. “ I have 
just found a delightful Chaperon’s Catechism in the Chroni- 
cle, which is beginning to make clear to me the mazes of 
Malta etiquette, and I haven’t come to afternoon tea yet. 
Look, here’s the first question: 

‘ Ques. Is it correct for a lady and gentleman to drive 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 179 

without a chaperon? Ans. Yes, provided they drive tan- 
dem. 

^ Ques. Is a gocart safer than a dogcart for driving 
a deux? Ans. Safer, hut not so comfortable.’ 

I always felt it was safer,” Gerty added, parenthetic- 
ally. 

We’ll buy a copy of the paper, and you shall make 
your mother learn it and repeat it every Sunday,” said 
Grant. 

The riding regulations are better still. Listen to 

this: 

^ Is it correct for a lady and gentleman to ride alone? 
Ans. Yes, provided they start with a party. 

^ Qufis. At a picnic, if a couple do not put in an ap- 
pearance all day, is tho chaperon exonerated if they say 
they lost their way? Ans. Certainly.’ 

But I don’t see anything about tea at Bizzazza’s.” 

Never mind,” said Grant; what there is of it ought 
to be printed in letters of gold. But I didn’t come here 
for you to read the paper to me. Miss Ruskin-Boyd. I’ve 
got a bit of news for you. I’ve got my company at last.” 

Ah! ” said Gerty, I noticed you had begun to wax 
your moustache again after all I said, and I suppose that is 
your excuse.” 

I assure you,” said Grant, earnestly, it is only soap. 
Don’t I always do what you ask? Won’t you congratulate 
me?” 

Of course I will, and I shall begin trying to call you 
Captain Grant from this minute. I shall 7iever get used 
to it! ” 

You may call me anything in the wide world that you 
like,” said Grant, tenderly. 

But there he stopped, without proceeding further to 
particularize. 

He was a very discreet young man. 

Gerty being an equally indiscreet young woman, they 
went to Bizzazza’s and had tea there together, a proceeding 
against all the edicts of Malta society. 

In the middle Grant took out his watch, and said he had 
to go and call on the Bells, and it was a horrid bother. 

As a preliminary, he escorted Gerty to the Stoddarts’, 


180 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


and had a tender parting with her inside the great outer 
door. He could not very well go to their flat, he said, and 
insinuated that the cause was a misplaced attachment on 
Mrs. Stoddart’s part, which he had found it necessary to 
nip in the hud. He really by this time believed that this 
was the cause of the coolness between them. 

He asked Gerty very anxiously when he should see her 
again. Could he be useful as escort on carnival days? He 
was down for duty on Monday, but, if so, he would manage 
to exchange. Might he send her flowers for the palace 
hall? — holding her hand lingeringly in his meanwhile. 

And though, when Gerty went upstairs, Christina re- 
membered McLeod’s words to her during their first ride, 
and tried to suggest a little wisdom, and a doubt of Grant, 
what chance had her words against his? 


CHAPTER XI. 

McLeod having once made up his mind, and spoken to 
Christina about himself, would not acknowledge to him- 
self that he regretted it, hut it was certainly a fact that for 
the succeeding fortnight he took some trouble to avoid her 
entirely. 

He felt unreasonably inclined to resent that she knew 
so much about him, and that she had heard him speak so 
freely. It made everything harder and not easier. 

He could not hear to feel that she might look upon him 
as an object for pity and curiosity — some one apart from 
other men, to be treated more kindly, and perhaps furtively 
watched. 

He had seen and noted as a child how his mother had 
watched his brother — with what an agony of anxiety. He 
had pitied him for it then, hut Drumesk himself had been 
rather proud of the attention of his family. He found him- 
self an exceedingly interesting person, and was looked upon 
by his little sisters with a kind of aAved envy. 

It was not every little hoy Avho had fits, who had once 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 181 

even bitten his tongue through, and who was not allowed 
to learn lessons because it excited him. 

But, even then, Andrew had never envied his notoriety. 

Later on, Andrew had gone to Eton and Drumesk had 
stayed at home, and been taught a little sometimes with 
his sisters. 

And Andrew had gradually grown to understand why 
his mother watched his brother with such a desperate anx- 
iety, why she w^as never content when he was not with her, 
and why her whole life was one anxious stretch of watching 
and waiting. 

She was a foolish, excitable woman — a woman whose 
mind since her marriage had been crushed down by a great 
overmastering dread. 

There was a little sister who had been strange, too, and 
who had died, and two girls who seemed like others, but who 
their mother watched always. 

It was she and the blood in her veins that had brought 
the curse upon these children, and she knew that all had 
not escaped. 

Their father had died wdien his eldest son, who had been 
such a bitter disappointment to him, was ten years old. 

Drumesk had come of age with much rejoicing and 
many festivities; his mother had even begun to gather hope, 
and talk of marriage as a possibility for him, when the fear 
which had been hanging over him all his life turned to a 
certainty, and it became necessary to separate him from 
among sane men, and send him to spend the rest of his life 
as an outcast. 

He was very unhappy — his life was a misery and a bur- 
den to him; he had tried again and again to end it. 

When his mother came to see him, he would neither look 
at her nor speak to her, and her uncontrolled grief moved 
him to frenzy. 

Andrew had gone to see him once, and Drumesk had 
greeted him with civility, and proceeded to explain to him 
how inconveniently he was troubled with a raging inward, 
fire, wdiich was gradually consuming him away, and which 
made it necessary for him sometimes to .keep his lips closed 
for weeks together to prevent a general conflagration. 

It was terrible, he said, in such a sad, sad voice, to 


182 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


feel himself a danger to everybody round him, hut if his 
brother could contrive to set him free, even for an hour, 
he could find a remedy — he knew he could. 

His frenzy of utter despair, when, with his brother, his 
last hope left him, haunted Andrew for years. 

Andrew himself put the curse as much as possible out 
of his mind. 

He said no word, except to his mother, to hinder his 
sisters’ marriages; but though he believed that he would 
escape, he was determined that through him it should never 
descend to others. 

Till Beresford’s death his life had been by no means 
unhappy. 

It came about in this way: Beresford was in com- 
mand of a company stationed at Ballater, and McLeod, 
having been for some time depressed and seedy and 
sleepless, had got a fortnight’s leave, and come to stay 
with him for shooting, intending to remain for his wed- 
ding. 

Beresford had been extremely anxious to introduce his 
friend to his fiancee. They had driven over to her father’s 
place, some twenty miles from Ballater, had stayed there 
all night, spent next day on the moors, and returned to 
barracks in high spirits. 

Beresford’s subalterns had exchanged some joking re- 
marks with them, and they had then gone to their rooms, 
with the avowed intention of cleaning their guns before 
dinner. 

Hot half an hour afterward the two subalterns heard a 
shot, and rushed upstairs with a common impulse. 

Beresford had fallen across a table, thp cleaning rod he 
had been using still in his hand. McLeod was standing 
a little distance off, unconsciously holding his smoking gun, 
with such a look of awful horror on his face that the young 
fellow who had gone into the room first started back in- 
stinctively. 

No one doubted that it was an accident — one of those 
foolishly common gun accidents recorded daily and use- 
lessly in the papers. Next to the girl who was to lose her 
lover, and the mother who had been sent for to see her son 
die, people pitied McLeod. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


183 


Beresford was a strong young man, and he had a hard 
struggle for life — he was desperately anxious to live. 

He lingered through ten days of agonizing torture, 
keeping his senses by sheer effort of will, and never losing 
hope and courage for the first week. Then there came 
a day when he turned his face to the wall, and wished 
for nothing, not even for the touch of the girl he loved, 
nothing hut that an end should come to this awful 
pain. 

McLeod went through the inquest and the funeral in a 
stunned, indifferent way. He did not seem, even to him- 
self, to mind very much just at first. 

Was it an accident? Desperately he tried to convince 
himself that it was — that that sudden, blind impulse of 
furious madness had never been. 

Beresford had had no doubts. In the greatness of his 
pain his thoughts had never been very clearly collected, 
and he had loyally and undoubtingly set down everything 
that puzzled him to this. 

It must be, McLeod told himself, another delusion of 
that black horrible depression he had been struggling to 
throw off for weeks. 

In his heart, he hnew. 

Back to his mind came that old strange illness of his. 

As the stunned feeling merged into pain, the pain 
seemed to grasp such a hold of his life as to make it clear 
that he must know all there was to know. 

He went to his mother and drew from her all particulars 
about that illness ten years before. 

Even then, even when he knew that for a month he had 
been a dangerous madman, hope did not absolutely leave 
him — it is so hard for a strong man of thirty to crush out 
hope. 

To his mother he said nothing about Beresford’s death. 
What she heard and suspected he could only guess. 

A few months later she died, not unwillingly. She died 
of no specific disease recorded in a medical book, but simply 
because a lifelong strain of fear and anxiety had worn her 
out, body and soul. 

But Andrew could not solve the problem of his life so 
easily and satisfactorily. 


184 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


He was nearly thirty years old, strong, clever, and en- 
tirely steady. 

He had done his best, with some failures, to lead his 
life after the fashion that he thought right. 

He was a man of strong passions, but with a will which 
was stronger still. 

Was it possible that by the injustice of God this re- 
straint had hastened the falling of the curse? 

This was a dangerous thought — a thought that, if he 
resigned himself to a life of inaction, would he sure to 
come again, and to come well supported. 

McLeod had hated the army at first, hut he threw his 
heart into everything he did, and in the eight years since 
he had passed his final examination he had grown to take 
an interest in his profession. 

But was it right for him to go on living as a free man? 
Was it safe for others? 

For once in his life he hesitated long. 

AVas he to wreck his career utterly on such a chance? 

Could it by any possibility he his duty — as sane as other 
men — to give himself up to lifelong imprisonment? 

Perhaps that dreadful, crushing melancholy, that des- 
perate impulse, would never come again. 

In a year life had almost become hearable. Then came 
that day in underground Valetta, and he had realized the 
hopelessness of the struggle. 

In the last few months the nights of sleeplessness, the 
unconquerable depression, had come hack to him. 

Could he hold out till first leave? There were faint 
rumours of war in Egypt as a temptation. 

It would be much easier to send in his papers and re- 
sign himself to worse than death if he were not among all 
the fellows. What an outcry they would make, and how 
they would wonder and speculate — just possibly, credibly, 
approach the truth! 

Ho, he must hold out by strength of will, and if he could 
not conquer, he could surely at least resist for another 
month or two. 

The terrible temptation to take his own life be recog- 
nised as part of the disease, and he would fight against it 
— at least as long as the faintest gleam of hope remained. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


185 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ Once for all, Christina, I won’t have this house made 
into a lounging place for all the regiments in Malta! ” 

Eh? ” said Christina, looking up from her book, “ of 
course not — if you mean this fiat. I don’t think Miss White 
will approve if you interfere with their lounging upstairs.” 

Intentionally she spoke in a tone of provoking indif- 
ference. 

George looked so very plain as he sat over the fire in 
his after-dinner costume of a shabby old checked coat, a 
waistcoat which did not match and was unbuttoned down 
the front, and gray trousers which had wriggled up so 
as to expose a certain amount of hairy red leg above his 
socks. He had been so very tiresome all day. He had in- 
sisted upon going to call at the palace, and had there made 
himself particularly loud and obnoxious, and he had smoked 
a pipe all the way down Strada Reale on the way home. He 
had an exceedingly noisy cold in his head, and had been 
clearing his throat and sniffing and sneezing all day. Of 
course, this was not exactly his fault; hut Christina did 
think he might have managed to sniff a little less frequently 
and aggressively, and to sneeze in a less startling manner. 

She had devoted herself to her book, and carefully 
omitted to observe that he was anxious to attract her at- 
tention. 

Now that he had finally spoken to her directly, she lay 
back in her chair and looked up at him with an aggravating 
smile. It had been quite impossible to please him, do 
what she might all day, and now she was not going to try. 

“ You know what I mean very well,” he said, sharply. 

Why, yesterday evening when I came in the drawing room 
was full of men, and this morning there was that chap 
Campbell again in an idiotic white frock.” 

He was only practising for the play, dear,” said Chris- 
tina, after the manner of soothing an unreasonable child. 

I should like to know what you have got to do with 
their play,” said George. 

Christina smiled to herself. 

I did think you would have thought little Mr. Camp- 


186 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


bell safe/^ she said, shrugging her shoulders. What do 
you want me to do, George ? Can’t you explain to Caroline 
whom you consider safe acquaintances for me ? ” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t talk to me like that, Kitty,” said 
George, sniffing and clearing his throat energetically and 
simultaneously. I am talking to you for your good. I 
don’t think it is the thing for a lady ” 

“ Oh, don’t! ” said Christina, with energy. 

Kever, never she hoped would she attain George’s ideal 
of a lady’s conduct. 

“ When I see that you prefer talking to other men ” 

said George again. 

^^When do you see that?” said Christina, sitting very 
upright — “ I ask you in fairness, when? Am I not always 
ready to talk to you and to do what you want? I am not 
going to be insulted by this absurd jealousy any longer, 
George, and these silly accusations about nothing at all.” 

What do you mean ? ” he began, with excitement, 
and then he was interrupted by a violent outbreak of sneez- 
ing, which unreasonably raised Christina’s indignation sev- 
eral points. 

I mean that if you can’t or won’t help me to make our 
life together as bearable as possible, there is no reason we 
should remain together,” she said. 

George’s ruddy face paled suddenly. 

I — I don’t understand you, Kitty,” he said, blankly; 
our life — bearable! Did you say — bearable?” 

Christina’s quick sympathy was roused by the dismay 
in his face. 

I don’t mean to be unkind,” she said, softening her 
voice. But she would not retract her words. She said to 
herself it was quite necessary that they should be spoken 
some time. 

George said no more. He pulled his chair closer to the 
fire and lighted his pipe, spending the rest of the evening 
in a puzzled meditation, from which not even Christina’s 
suggestion of halma or patience was able to rouse him. 

When they were going to bed he surprised her very 
much. 

Kitty,” he said, with much hesitation, if you really 
like, I will change for dinner.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 187 

Christina, who was putting out the standing lamp, 
turned round in surprise. 

Change for dinner? Oh, don’t bother about it,” she 
said, indifferently. 

But I will. And did you mean what you said about 
our life being — bearable? Kitty, I thought we were very 
happy ” 

“ If you will stop scolding me, it will he all right,” said 
Christina, with a faint smile. I do my best, really, George; 
it is not our fault that we are absolutely incongruous peo- 
ple.” 

George gave her a long, puzzled look, and turned away 
with a heavy sigh. 

Christina was a little troubled; he had never looked at 
her like that before. Was it possible that his armour of 
vanity and self-esteem was not so impenetrable as she had 
imagined? 

As she brushed out her thick light hair that night, with 
a hook on her knee that she was not reading, she wondered 
would Captain McLeod have approved of her plain speech. 
Would he have admitted it to be only a proper assertion 
of her rights as a woman, or .would he have again accused 
her of selfishness? 

At first, fresh from that talk with him on the roof, all 
the little rubs and crosses of her life had seemed to her so 
infinitesimal, so completely endurable. But unfortunate- 
ly, in the fortnight that followed, they had returned to 
their usual proportions. At first she had felt as if she could 
never again let George’s little vanities and coarsenesses 
trouble her seriously, and she had been disappointed to find 
herself mistaken. 

The desire to be of some help to McLeod had driven 
out all idea of giving up his friendship, and had given her 
a new interest and excitement in life. 

But when a fortnight had passed without his making 
an effort to see her again, she began to feel that her sympa- 
thy would probably not he acceptable. She had thought at 
one time of writing to invite him to call or to ride, hut she 
had decided against this. She would not have done it had 
he been exactly as other men, and she felt he might realize 
this and resent pity. 


188 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Perhaps he was busy. The regiment had moved into 
Valetta a few days before, and established themselves in 
barracks at the Auberge de Baviar. Naturally there must 
have been a good deal for the officers to do. 

Christina would have liked a talk with him, to take her 
out of herself. 

Somehow things seemed to have been becoming specially 
unendurable lately. George was always either offended or, 
what was worse, inclined to be unpleasantly caressing. If 
he saw her talking to any one, especially to any man, he 
always made himself a third, and would afterward demand 
an account of the conversation preceding his arrival. Chris- 
tina could not help an uncomfortable feeling that no man, 
however much inclined towards jealousy, would give way to 
it with such absolute unreason did he not feel his wife was 
utterly indifferent to him. 

But it was very hard for a young woman, at no time 
given to meekness, to bear. 

Sometimes, as this evening, she felt moved with all her 
strength to hate him, and would clinch her teeth together 
to restrain the temptation to unkind or hitter words. 

She wondered to herself would her plain words, spoken 
at last, have any effect on George, or would he by next 
morning have put them aside, and he as satisfied with him- 
self and his relations to his wife as ever. 

She was not prepared for the effect they did have. 

George had to he on the Dauntless early in the morn- 
ing, and he came hack very late for breakfast. 

Christina had expected him half an hour earlier, and 
been rather disturbed about the spoiling of a kidney, a dish 
about which he was very particular. 

When he came in she was busily putting fresh tea in 
the teapot. 

Well, friend, you’re late this morning,” she said, with- 
out looking up. 

There was this good thing about Christina, she was 
never sullen. 

Having said what she intended the evening before, she 
had no intention of recurring to it. She had a fiery tem- 
per of her own, hut it was seldom, very seldom aroused, and 
to arouse it was not in George’s power. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


189 


I haven’t been wasting my time, however/’ said he, 
speaking in an odd, half-shy, half-triumphant voice. 

You must sit down and eat this kidney immediately,^’ 
said Christina; “ don’t even wait for your tea.” 

As she came round the table to take off the cover for 
him, she looked up and started violently. 

George! ” she cried. 

Well,” said George, with a half-sheepish, half-pleased 
smile, what do you think of me ? ” 

Great Scott! how funny you look! ” exclaimed Chris- 
tina, bursting into the merriest laughter. 

Very odd, indeed, he did look to her unaccustomed eyes 
as he stood before her shorn of his beloved heard, and in- 
tensely conscious of the deprivation. 

It was not an improvement — it was decidedly not an 
improvement. It gave him the air of a quaint, grown-up 
hoy, and exposed to view a loose-lipped, coarse mouth. 

Why, George, you will have to go about with a ticket 
on your back to say who you are! ” said Christina, still af- 
fected with laughter. I don’t believe I should have known 
you if I had met you in Strada Reale.” 

His face fell terribly. 

Do you think — do you not think — it is an improve- 
ment, then?” he said, anxiously. 

Christina evaded the question. 

What on earth put such an extraordinary freak into 
your head ? ” she said. 

It wasn’t,” said George, rather sulkily. 

^‘Wasn’t what?” said Christina; wasn’t a freak?” 

It doesn’t matter now, anyhow,” said he, turning 
his shoulder to her and helping himself to salt and 
butter. 

But the blank relapse into disappointment was more 
than she could stand. 

Perhaps I shall like it when I get used to it, dear,” 
she said, gently, or you can let it grow again ” 

George pushed his plate from him passionately. 

There’s no pleasing you! ” he said. Didn’t you beg 
me to shave my heard when you first came out? And then 
when you said — when you talked about — ^it’s being hear- 
able, I thought perhaps it would please you — perhaps you 
13 


190 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


might see that though a fellow might he a bit rough — and 
now you do nothing but laugh at me. Damn it! 

He dashed out of the room and the flat before Chris- 
tina had time to think of stopping him, or had even col- 
lected her scattered wits. 

She was completely amazed. 

What had come to George? 

Had she been unkind, more unkind than she knew? 
Poor fellow! he had come in so full of hope and a wish to 
please her, and she had not understood. 

Great tears of pity rose slowly into her eyes. 

She was very sorry — she would be kind, very kind when 
he came back. 

But surely there was something a little hit childish 
about his angry departure. He had spilt his tea and over- 
turned his chair, and run out like a naughty hoy. 

Unwillingly, with tears in her eyes, Christina began to 
laugh. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

^‘Haye you got any nice white petticoats — the kind 
with holes in them stitched round, you know,” said Camp- 
bell, insinuatingly. 

My dear Mr. Campbell! ” said Christina. 

“ I beg your pardon, Mrs. Stoddart; I didn’t see you,” 
said Campbell, turning round and raising his cap. 

Christina and Gerty Ruskin-Boyd were out shopping, 
and had discovered Campbell on coming into Hoskins’ in 
search of a sunshade. 

^^What extraordinary purchases you seem to he mak- 
ing! ” said Gerty. 

It’s all right, really, you know,” said Campbell; hut 
I have been obliged to explain fully in every shop because 
it did sound so exceedingly awkward. Will you come and 
support me through the ordeal of asking for ladies’ gloves 
and — stockings? ” 

Oh, it’s for the play, of course! ” exclaimed Gerty. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


191 


“ Do you mean to say you^re in the secret, too! said 
Campbell; and then to cover this speech, which dawned 
upon him after he had made it as doubtfully polite, he 
added hastily, By the way, I wonder you recognised me.’’ 

Recognised you ? ” said Christina, in surprise. 

Is it possible ? Aren’t you more familiar with my 
appearance than that ? ” said Campbell, tragically. Don’t 
)mu see I have sacrificed my moustache in the interests of 
art? ” 

Of course,” said Christina, “ I couldn’t imagine what 
had so changed you. Don’t he tactless, Gerty, even if it 
doesn’t make quite as much difference as the loss of George’s 
beard. Here are the sunshades.” 

But do come and help me over the petticoats,” said 
Campbell. “I am sure my need is the most imminent. 
Which is the latest thing, Mrs. Stoddart — lace or flounces 
or holes sewn round? ” 

When they had chosen, and also selected for him a pair 
of black silk stockings, resisting a sudden ambition on his 
part to have them open-work, an idea struck Campbell. 

I am to have an undress rehearsal in my rooms this 
afternoon,” he said. I am detached to the Marsamuscetto 
steps, as there isn’t room at the Auherge de Baviar, and I 
have capital rooms. I wish you would come, Mrs. Stod- 
dart.” 

“ Oh, I couldn’t,” said Christina. 

“ Yes, you can, if you will,” said Campbell; even if 
we were to be ^ tetty-tet,’ nobody minds me, and, as a matter 
of fact, Mrs. Bell is to be there. It will be immensely 
proper. Do come.” 

And I may come, too, mayn’t I ? ” said Gerty. Oh, 
do say I may! I shan’t he allowed to go and see the play 
because it is in Lent, hut a rehearsal is quite different.” 

Of course you must come,” said Campbell. “ There 
will be tea for Mrs. Stoddart and for me, and whisky and 
soda for you. Miss Euskin-Boyd, or champagne if 5^011 pre- 
fer it.” 

Your stage manager wouldn’t relish such an intru- 
sion,” said Christina, doubtfully. 

‘^I’m not afraid of Andrew,” said Gerty, with much 
decision. 


192 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


In her heart Christina was burning to see her play and 
McLeod’s. It was quite possible that she, like Gerty, 
though from a different reason, would not see it acted. 
She wanted to see McLeod again very much also; she felt 
that his confidence in her had established a special bond 
between them. And she had a very youthful desire for 
the fun of it. George and her position had temporarily 
worried away much of her very great capacity for enjoy- 
ment; still she had had no one heavy trouble to crush out 
the mere pleasure of being alive, and on the smallest op- 
portunity M^as quite able to enjoy herself, almost, as Gerty 
would have put it, to ecstasy.” 

If it had not been for Gerty she would have hesitated 
less; Lady Ruskin-Boyd would certainly neither approve 
of the subject of the play nor of her daughter going to see 
it in Lent. 

But when Gerty announced with emphatic decision that, 
whether Chrissy went or not, she would go, Christina gave 
way. 

Campbell arranged to meet them in the library, and 
came there for them later. He was catholic in his tastes 
and admired both of them, and was delighted to carry them 
off to his rooms. He was very comfortably lodged high up 
at Marsamuscetto, where he could overlook the quarantine 
harbour, and had a good chance of coolness on the hottest 
day that might come. 

McLeod was there, and a couple of men who were to 
take small parts; also the Bells — he, a slight, consumptive- 
looking man of thirty, and she to all appearance a few years 
older, with a handsome, worn face. 

Christina had not seen McLeod since that evening on 
the roof, and unconsciously expected some sign of special 
friendship from him; but, on the contrary, he looked by 
no means pleased to see her, and greeted her with his most 
chilling courtesy. 

She heard him saying something to Campbell under 
his breath about turning the whole thing into a 
farce,” which under the circumstances she felt to be rather 
hard. 

It was Gerty he drew aside. 

Gerty, you’d much better have some tea and go home,” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 193 

he said; your mother would be awfully annoyed if she 
knew you were here.” 

“ I daresay she would/’ said Gerty, calmly; she thinks 
it dreadful of you to act in Lent. However, Andrew, unless 
you carry me I’m not going — and that would create a 
scandal.” 

Very well. Please yourself.” 

McLeod was in a black temper. He scowled over the 
tendency of the whole party to turn the business into an 
informal tea party, and he had an uncomfortable inclina- 
tion to look across at Mrs. Stoddart every few minutes to 
see if she was watching him, and if there was any remem- 
brance of their last talk in her eyes. 

Campbell was immensely hospitable, and had enough 
tea and cakes provided for three times the number of his 
guests, and he and Gerty were both wildly festive. Gerty 
was frankly fond of cake, and was on extremely hail-fellow- 
well-met terms with Campbell. 

She was also exhilarated by a sensation of wrongdoing, 
quite as wicked as, and much more entertaining than, eat- 
ing meat on Friday. She would have to confess it of 
course, but — vogue la galere — she would in the meantime 
have as much fun as she could. 

Jorrocks, I don’t see much good in my staying,” said 
McLeod, aside; nobody will do anything but play the 
fool.” 

Don’t look as if you’d like to cut my throat. Tommy,” 
said Campbell, laughing, but, to his own annoyance, Mc- 
Leod felt himself change colour at the careless words. It’s 
all right; we’ll call them to order. Mrs. Bell, shall we 
start ? ” 

Mrs. Bell was quite ready. She stipulated that Camp- 
bell should make some attempt at petticoats, if she was to 
look upon him as her daughter, and this caused still fur- 
ther delay and a good deal more fooling on Campbell’s 
part. 

Christina wondered how McLeod had ever dreamed of 
depending on him, but when they began to act she ceased 
to wonder. 

Campbell threw himself into his part, forgetting his 
absurdities and managing his voice and dress remarkably 


194 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


well. McLeod had undergone so many transformations in 
Christina’s opinion that he could not now surprise her very 
much. It absurdly seemed more unnatural to her than 
anything else he could do that, with such a terrible tragedy 
to face, he should look and behave so much like other men. 

She had quite expected that he would he able to act. 
His stiffness and his absent manner had vanished at once, 
and she saw her hero almost as she had imagined him. Al- 
most — not quite; Christina realized that a certain unwhole- 
somehess about him had in some vague way disappeared. 
She realized it with a sudden admiration for the man who 
had unconsciously made the difference. 

McLeod’s part was not a large one, nor comparatively 
of importance. 

The chief interest of the play centred in the mother 
and daughter. 

Campbell had the part of the daughter, upon whom 
the discovery of her mother’s hidden and unsuspected sin 
was unwillingly forced. 

He was very good, hut that afternoon Christina and 
McLeod both realized that only a woman could have acted 
the part absolutely as it should be acted. 

Once, when he was not needed, McLeod came and stood 
beside her for a few minutes. 

Will it do?” he said. 

I never thought it would he so good,” said Christina. 

Oh, I wish I could see it properly acted! ” said Gerty; 
it is ripping! I shall go mad if it is a failure! ” 

McLeod was resentfully conscious that the turn of her 
words made Christina look at him impulsively. 

'' I think Campbell will do,” he said, rather stiffly. 

But he was a little anxious about him, all the same. 
Even if he succeeded in conquering his sense of the com- 
ical, could he be certain of keeping him sober? 

Of course you will come, on the night? ” he said to 
Christina. 

“ I don’t know; I should like it.” 

She was indignant with McLeod for asking the question 
in such a tone of commonplace civility; he knew her dif- 
ficulties better than any one else. 

Would it be possible for her to go? There was not the 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


195 


smallest chance of her being able to manage it without 
George — he loved going out. Was there any fear of his 
guessing? If only McLeod and she had bethought them- 
selves of changing the names, hut it was too late now. 
Would he remember? 

She would have liked to consult McLeod, hut he had 
turned away, and was to all appearance engrossed by the 
performers; and he had been so extremely distant and un- 
friendly all afternoon. 

Presently, when everybody was leaving, he undertook 
to see Gerty home, and left Christina to Campbell’s escort. 

“ Bones is in a divine temper to-day! ” said Campbell 
to Christina. “ I suppose he thought we were all too frivo- 
lous, and he has really taken any amount of trouble.” 

But Christina was bitterly disappointed. Nobody 
seemed to want her sympathy or friendship. She was sorry 
for McLeod with all her heart, and he had been annoyed 
and not pleased to see her, and had seemed more inclined 
to talk to Gerty than to her. It was he and not she who 
was unwilling to be friends now. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

McLeod awoke on the eventful day appointed for the 
performance of his play with a decided sense of satisfac- 
tion that it had come at last. So far, everything had gone 
very successfully. 

He had spent a good deal of time and money in hav- 
ing everything of the best. He had sent to England for 
the most part of the scenery, and had spent the preceding 
day at the Florian concert room, with a couple of carpenters 
and half a dozen men, making preparations. 

He had studied his own part till the man he was to 
represent absolutely lived to him, and had spent as much 
time as he could succeed in persuading from Campbell in 
coaching that young man. 

He had taken a great deal of pleasure and interest out 


196 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of it all, but just now he had become rather overanxious 
for success. 

Those terrible fits of depression were becoming harder 
and harder to fight off. He could struggle with them in 
the daytime, but at night, as hour after hour came without 
bringing sleep, the effort was a much greater one. He had 
tried to put down this sleeplessness entirely to the change 
from the still nights at Pembroke to the Valetta bells. 
He would get up and dress, and go out into the square and 
down to the sea, finding a strange satisfaction in playing 
with that haunting temptation of his, all alone, in the dead 
of the night. 

It might be better when the anxiety of the play was 
over. He woke this morning from a few hours’ restless 
sleep full of the hope that it would. 

For the first time things went perversely. To begin 
with, McLeod’s servant came to him before breakfast to 
tell him that there was a difficulty about the programmes, 
and some mistake as to the time they were ordered for. 
Then a couple of the men managed to smash a large 
flower-stand, especially lent as a particular favour by the 
colonel. 

This was a bad beginning. 

McLeod drove down to Florian about eleven with Seton- 
Kerr, who had a small part, and was generally useful. 
Shortly afterwards the catalogue of misfortunes was con- 
tinued. One of the sergeants, who was extremely neat- 
handed and had been very useful, managed to fall from a 
ladder and get his arm broken, and in the excitement of 
this accident another man cannoned through some scenery 
with disastrous results. 

At intervals during the morning the performers dropped 
in and gave some perfunctory assistance, with the exception 
of Campbell, who was at garrison class. 

I shouldn’t wonder if J orrocks didn’t turn up this 
afternoon, either,” said one man. 

^‘Why?” said McLeod, with sharp dismay. 

“ Been keeping Christmas! ” said Seton-Kerr, laughing. 

McLeod gave an impatient exclamation. Campbell had 
been going on wonderfully steadily lately. There had been 
a regimental guest night the evening before, and McLeod, 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 197 

who had invited no guest and felt seedy, had left fairly 
early. Evidently Campbell had not. 

He made a general idiot of himself,” said Seton-Kerr, 
with some amusement. He started to wrestle with Mc- 
Ferran, of all people in the world, and nearly got his back 
broken; then he insisted on laying odds with Grant 
that he could turn a somersault backward over a couple 
of chairs, and came to almighty smash; then he and 
a few others went off and played the goat all over the 
shop.” 

He had better drop fooling for this evening,” said 
McLeod. 

Everything must and should go right. From the first, 
Campbell had occasioned his greatest misgiving. How- 
ever, he would look after him at dinnertime. 

He went to see that the chairs were properly arranged. 

After some indecision, it had been decided in favour 
of invitations as opposed to purchased tickets. 

The play would only last a little over an hour, and about 
the manner in which the rest of the evening was to be spent, 
dispute had waxed hot. 

McLeod wanted to have an interval filled up by the 
band, to be followed by an informal musical performance, 
with groups of chairs round little tables for the spectators, 
and refreshments going on, with supper to follow. 

Campbell and Seton-Kerr said they had discovered the 
third wooden floor in Malta, and wanted to have a dance, 
but were dissuaded on its being put before them that the 
floor would scarcely be in good condition after rows of 
chairs had been ranged upon it the hour before. 

So McLeod had his way. 

In the afternoon Campbell came down, looking rather 
dilapidated, with the Bells, and later on Christina arrived, 
according to a promise, convoying two carrozzes full of 
flowerpots, and assisted by Grant and Gerty. 

There was no atmosphere of tragedy about McLeod this 
afternoon when they came upon him in his shirt sleeves, 
with his red hair on end and a streak of green paint down 
his nose. 

Would you mind going to the farthest end of the 
room and finding if you can hear me quite distinctly,” he 


198 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


said to Christina. He was not thinking about anything 
but the play, obviously. 

Campbell rebelled, and declared it made him nervous 
to stand up there and try his voice in the empty room. He 
followed Christina, and asked her if it was decided that 
she was coming that evening. 

Christina nodded. The invitation had been too tempt- 
ing to refuse, and she had made up her mind to run the risk 
of George’s guessing. 

Gerty^ at the other end of the room, had been making 
herself very agreeable to McLeod’s dogs, from an interested 
hope of gratifying their master, and being allowed to re- 
main for the final rehearsal. 

Presently she got up and went over to Grant, with Jinks 
in her arms, very much pleased by her attention, and trying 
to reach her face with his little red tongue. This was Jinks’s 
one, unappreciated way of showing his gratitude. 

Grant was standing with his hands in his pockets and a 
charming smile on his handsome face, watching Mr. Bell and 
a sergeant struggling to lift a heavy fiowerpot into place. 

It’s all right,” Gerty said, under her breath. Mrs. 
Maude is going to bring me, and she hasn’t the remotest 
idea that mamma doesn’t know.” 

Ah, really?” said Grant. 

Aren’t you glad? Don’t you care? ” said Gerty, with 
a sudden sharpness of misgiving in her voice. 

Of course I care,” said Grant, softly; but I am not 
sure that you would not he wiser to give it up. I won’t be 
so selfish as to urge you.” 

And if I don’t go, what will you do ? ” said Gerty. 

Oh, I suppose I shall have to look in. It’s a regi- 
mental show, you see. But it would he selfish of me to ask 
you to come, just for my own pleasure.” 

It was a remarkable fact that only during the last week 
had his selfishness begun to trouble Grant. 

Gerty looked at him Avith doubtful, Avistful eyes. 

Do you want me to come? ” she said again. 

Of course I do,” he said, rather absently. Will you 
excuse me for a moment? I Awant to speak to Mrs. Bell 
about a song I promised her last night.” 

Ananias has begun his old game,” said Campbell to 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


199 


Christina, at their post at the back of the hall. Capital, 
old chap! I can hear every word,” he added, approvingly, 
to McLeod. 

McLeod came up to Christina as she was going away, 
and talked to her for a few minutes in his most friendly 
manner. 

Then she and Gerty went off, unaccompanied by Grant. 

Gerty explained, anxiously, that he had said that he 
would not come “ because it would he so selfish to make her 
too conspicuous.” 

‘‘ When a man begins to talk of his being selfish” said 
Christina, you may be quite sure he’s getting fickle.” 

She still had a certain personal feeling with regard to 
Captain Grant — a certain wounded vanity which drove her 
to cynical words. 

Grant did not get much chance of talking to Mrs. Bell 
just then, as McLeod ordered him out of the room before 
the final rehearsal. 

The performers acquitted themselves very satisfactorily 
— even Campbell, who had a splitting headache, and was 
in an irritable frame of mind. 

I want you to dine at the club with me, Jorrocks, and 
come down here early,” said McLeod. 

I can’t,” said Campbell; I am engaged to dine with 
some naval chaps, but I shall he here in lots of time.” 

Can’t you work it? ” said McLeod; and on most d'ays 
Campbell, who was the soul of good nature, would at least 
have made the attempt. 

This afternoon he was perfectly certain he couldn’t. 

For Heaven’s sake then,” said McLeod, rather roughly, 
mind what you’re about. Don’t go playing the goat.” 

Oh, all right,” said Campbell ; trust me to look after 
myself, old chap.” 

But ^IcLeod scarcely felt so gloriously confident. 

Generally, difficulties rather exhilarated him, hut just 
at present he did not feel so thoroughly equal to coping 
with them as usual. 

Still, every one by a sort of instinct appealed to him 
whenever anything went wrong, , and he always rose to the 
occasion. 

The play must and should he a success. 


200 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod only went up to the club in time for a hasty 
dinner, and was back again at Florian by eight o’clock, an 
hour before any of his guests were due. 

The room was arranged with groups of chairs and small 
round tables, and had a pleasingly informal appearance 
about it, “ and lots of room for the legs,” as Grant had re- 
marked approvingly, with a reminiscence of many smoking 
concerts. 

McLeod had a good many last directions to give and 
last touches to put, but everything was as finally ready as 
he could make it by the time the first arrivals made their 
appearance. 

There was a considerable preponderance of men among 
the guests. 

The Camerons had had mess an hour earlier than usual 
and were there in a body, and large contingents from the 
other regiments were already beginning to arrive. 

Then the Bells had asked some friends, and so had 
Campbell, and there was a sprinkling of sailors — very much 
in the minority. 

The Stoddarts were in good time, and some of the Cam- 
erons, who felt themselves to a certain extent in the posi- 
tion of hosts, found them a table. Christina was decidedly 
popular among men, perhaps by reason of her complete 
indifference to them. She was always willing to talk, and 
instinctively anxious to make herself liked; but that was 
all, unless some individuality about a man struck her with 
a view to her writing. 

Indifference had become a habit with her during the 
years when her marriage was not known, just as with some 
girls it becomes a habit to brighten up upon the appearance 
of a man of any kind. 

George liked to see her talk to half a dozen men at once; 
it was only when there was one alone that he felt called 
upon to interfere. He leaned back in his chair, with his 
usual air of supreme complacence, a trifle marred by an 
acute consciousness of his beardless condition. 

Time’s up,” said McFerran, looking at his watch. I 
wonder will they be punctual.” 

“Why, Kitty, you look quite excited,” said George, 
laughing. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


201 


Christina started. If she allowed herself to look as she 
felt, would not everybody, having already proved so ob- 
servant and not knowing the truth, quite naturally put 
down her anxiety entirely to interest in McLeod? 

“ I believe McLeod is absolutely nervous for once in his 
life,” said another youth in trews. “By Jove! the band 
is starting something fresh — what’s that for ? ” 

“ Why, Gerty! ” said Christina. 

Miss Ruskin-Boyd came across to the group with a cer- 
tain nervous gaiety. 

“ Well? ” she said, flippantly; “ I suppose you thought 
me at home and in bed ? But I didn’t see the fun of that. 
I got mamma to let me go and dine with Mrs. Maude, and 
didn’t mention the after-dinner entertainment.” 

She spoke quickly, in a rather forced tone, and glanced 
toward the door at hasty intervals. There was an instinct 
of trouble in Gerty’s mind already. 

McFerran, who was sitting next his wife, and, like the 
others, looked upon Gerty as rather a joke, rose to offer her 
his seat, and asked her what she thought her cousin would 
say to her. 

“ Andrew! ” said Gerty, in her clear, high-pitched 
voice; “ there’ll be the devil to pay if Andrew finds out. 
Andrew is too gloriously virtuous for me — one of those 
young men who never gave their mothers a moment’s anx- 
iety.” 

“ I can’t allow you to malign him like that,” said Mc- 
Ferran, laughing; “ you must remember he’s in my d^egi- 
ment.” 

Gerty began an answer, and then suddenly lost the 
thread of what she was saying, and Christina, who was sit- 
ting with her back to the door, guessed from the radiance 
in her face that Grant had come in. 

At the same moment the band, after a short consulta- 
tion among themselves, started a third item, a valse this 
time, and there was a general movement of impatience 
among the audience. 

George said he wondered how much later the perform- 
ance would be. 

McFerran said he hoped there wasn’t a hitch some- 
where. 


202 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Gordon came out of the stage door, with rather a per- 
turbed face, and made his way hastily through the audi- 
ence, with every appearance of being full of business. 
Evidently something was wrong. 


CHAPTEK Xy. 

What had happened Avas this: McLeod had been breath- 
lessly busy during the last half hour before the play ought 
to have begun. He had been anxious about Campbell, but 
was relieved when a sergeant, who was helping Avith the 
curtain, told him that Mr. Campbell had come. 

McLeod AA^as in a shooting coat, in which he Avas to make 
his first appearance on the stage. He had only to put on a 
dark wig and moustache and to blacken his eyebroAvs. 

As he was giving the bandmaster a few parting injunc- 
tions, the sergeant came up to him and drew him mysteri- 
ously aside. 

“ Sir,^^ he said, Mr. Seton-Kerr sent me to the gentle- 
men’s dressing room just now, and there’s a lady in it! ” 

A lady? ” said McLeod; then he remembered and 
laughed. Didn’t you turn her out? ” he said. 

Well, sir, it Avas for that I wanted to speak to you,” 
said *the man, Avith some hesitation. The lady is — very 
drunk, sir.” 

McLeod started as if he had been shot, and swore 
audibly. 

I thought I had better come and ask you what you 
would wish me to do, sir.” 

A^ou Avere quite right; I’ll see to it,” said McLeod, 
hastily. 

With more than a misgiving on his mind, he Avent to the 
dressing room and found his worst fears realized. 

Campbell had not been too drunk to get himself into 
his clothes after a fashion; he had even made a Aveak 
attempt at rouging, and had put on his Avig quite crook- 
edly. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


203 


lie looked rather a pretty young woman, and decidedly 
a dissipated one, as he lounged on the table in the middle 
of a medley of feminine and masculine garments. He had 
his back against the wall and his feet on a chair, and had 
evidently had an idea of making himself as comfortable 
as possible with the limited means available. 

McLeod stood and looked at him in dead silence for 
several minutes; then he turned away and called Mr. Bell. 
But Mr. Bell was dismayed and absolutely devoid of sug- 
gestions. 

There was a disreputable suggestion of impropriety 
about Campbell’s costume, combined with his attitude and 
condition. 

I am sure I don’t know what to do,” said Mr. Bell, 
helplessly. 

It’s all my fault,” said McLeod. I was an ass to 
have any faith in a chap like Campbell.” 

Campbell roused up to his name, and said indistinctly 
that he was all right — quite ready to go on. 

Do you think he could manage it?” said Mr. Bell, 
dubiously. 

‘^It would be an insult to Mrs. Bell to ask her to go 
on with him in this state,” said McLeod, in a concentrated 
voice. 

Seton-Kerr and another man came to look in. The 
group grew; the prompter, a couple of sergeants, and a 
carpenter formed a fitting background. 

Campbell was rather pleased than otherwise, and smiled 
benignly upon them all, later going into unexplained fits 
of laughter. 

Everybody had some more or less futile suggestion to 
make. One man said that the best thing to be done was 
to take Campbell into the air; another, that fresh air was 
of all things to be avoided; somebody proposed to give him 
a cold-water douche; somebody else to let him sleep him- 
self sober. 

It was only to McLeod that it occurred to send a message 
to the band to play something else. 

Campbell, meanwhile, was by no means quiescent; oc- 
casionally he vowed he was going on, he didn’t care who 
said no; and occasionally, with half-maudlin penitence, he 


204 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


assured McLeod that he was very sorry, and would do his 
best. 

What about having the pipers’ reel now, or Lady Eva 
Wrench’s skirt dance? We could spend the time trying to 
wake up Campbell,” suggested Seton-Kerr. 

‘‘ We must, I suppose,” said McLeod, grimly. I sup- 
pose everybody will make up their minds the whole thing 
is meant to be comic. 1 would rather drop the play than 
have it turned into a farce. What do you fellows say? ” 

Nonsense,” said Mr. Bell, with an effort at cheerful- 
ness. I’ll go and speak to my wife. She must be won- 
dering what has happened.” 

I am quite ready to do as the rest of you decide,” said 
^IcLeod. I must apologize, Bell, to you and especially to 

your wife. Seton-Kerr, will you go— ” He stopped, 

realizing that Seton-Kerr could not make his appearance 
among the audience in the attire of a smart groom. “ Gor- 
don,” he said, for the Lord’s sake, go and see to the pipers. 
Arrange for Grant to take his banjo solo after them, and 
then the Campanology. By that time we will know what 
we can do with Campbell.” 

McLeod had not lost his head. He had only lost all his 
inward enthusiasm and pleasure in the play, and everything 
concerning it. 

He felt one of the blackest of his fits of depression was 
awaiting him, to be met and fought with as best he might 
when he should have time to think. The play and his part 
of it had become something to be got through with an 
effort. 

It was a failure. 

The pipers danced their reel. Captain Grant played the 
banjo, and the Campanology went off successfully, after 
which the play began, just as everybody was beginning to 
think it had been forgotten. 

People were a trifle puzzled. They were politely anxious 
to do their duty, but extremely doubtful whether the per- 
formance was supposed to be comic or tragic. 

At the end of the first scene Campbell had to appear, 
and made his entrance, as a daughter returning to her par- 
ents after years of absence, consumed with immoderate 
laughter. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


205 


The parents’ greeting was decidedly nervous and cov- 
ered burning indignation. 

Christina had been watching George until now, fearful 
lest any reminiscence should be aroused in his mind, hut 
now she transferred her attention to the performers. She 
was the first to discover that something w^as very wrong 
indeed. 

It was fiat — dreadfully fiat. Nobody knew whether to 
laugh or to look solemn. 

CamphelFs identity had not been disclosed to the regi- 
ment, but, as he shortly forgot to avoid his ordinary voice, 
it was promptly discovered, and provoked a good deal of 
half-suppressed merriment. 

The Camerons were loyal, and the rest of the assem- 
blage was polite, hut no one knew exactly what it was all 
about. ^ 

Then came a scene in which Campbell was entirely ab- 
sent, and Mrs. Bell and McLeod rose to the occasion and 
interested their audience. 

But afterwards Campbell appeared again, in a state of 
decided confusion. He forgot his part, and stopped to in- 
quire loudly from the prompter: “ What do you say? By 
Jove! I can’t hear a syllable! ” He walked the stage with 
a manly if somewhat uncertain tread, proved peculiarly 
affectionate as a daughter, and finally went to sleep when 
he was supposed to be writing a note and waiting for his cue. 

It is rather a stupid play, I am afraid,” said Mrs. Mc- 
Ferran, with a puzzled look. I suppose that girl is meant 
to be comic, ferry? ” she added to her husband. But 
neither he nor any of the rest of the audience knew. A faint 
suspicion of the truth was beginning to dawn on the per- 
plexity of a few. 

The curtain had been rung down, and the performers 
stood in a disgusted group on the stage. 

^^We can’t go on,” said McLeod; ^^it’s no use. The 
next scene is entirely Campbell’s.” 

Certainly we can’t go on,” said Mrs. Bell, tartly. She 
was very naturally annoyed with the whole matter, and in- 
clined to throw all the blame on McLeod. 

I suppose I must go and say something by way of 
apology? ” said McLeod, after a moment’s pause. 

1 ^ 


206 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Oh, I don’t think you need. I am sure they haven’t 
the faintest idea whether we are at the beginning or middle 
or end,” said Mrs. Bell, in wrathful tones. I am sure 
nothing could make them more puzzled than they are al- 
ready.” 

AYhat’s wrong? ” said Campbell, serenely. 

Mrs. Bell turned her back upon him, and walked off to 
the dressing room with much decision. Her husband fol- 
lowed her; he, too, was rather irritated, and too much an- 
noyed with McLeod for the moment to proffer him any help. 
It was natural, if unreasonable. 

‘‘ Shall I go on in front and say something. Bones?” 
said Seton-Kerr, good-naturedly. 

“ No, I shan’t shirk it,” said McLeod. “ Will you, like 
a good chap, see after Campbell, and I’ll go on and apolo- 
gize, and then try and fix the rest of the performarice.” 

McLeod said he was very sorry that the .short play they 
had proposed to give could not proceed. He gave no rea- 
son, and said the second part of the programme would now 
begin after a short interval. 

But there was a want of go about the whole affair. Peo- 
ple sat about in groups, and ate ices and drank according to 
their tastes; they listened to the different performers with 
varied satisfaction, and were always ready to express polite 
approval, but a chill seemed to have got into the whole 
evening. 

Even at the informal supper, when everything was over, 
it was with an effort that anything like informality was 
kept up. 

Captain Grant and his brother saved the evening from 
being a complete failure. They insisted on pushing aside 
the chairs and setting a dance on foot. 

All this time McLeod had been doing his best as host, 
going from one guest to another, with much courtesy and 
more readiness to talk than usual. 

Now, as the room was being prepared for dancing and 
the band were getting their instruments ready, while a man - 
had been despatched post-haste to the Auberge de Baviar 
for music, he came across the room to Mrs. Stoddart. 

^ “ I am very sorry about this,” he said, in a low voice. 

I can’t tell you how much I blame myself.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 207 

How could it possibly be your fault? ” said Christina, 
impulsively; it is worse for you than for any one.'’’ 

McLeod smiled slightly. 

“ It is rather a smash,” he said. 

It doesn’t matter so much as you feel/’ said Christina, 
in a low voice; “ don’t you know. Captain McLeod, how 
things get quite out of proportion sometimes? ” 

“ I didn’t know I took a beating so badly,” said McLeod. 

The band had struck up a valse, and Mr. Grant of the 
Dauntless came up and asked Christina to dance. 

She looked at McLeod, hesitated for a moment, and said 
she was sorry, but she was engaged. 

Then, when Mr. Grant had secured a dance later on 
and gone away, she turned to McLeod doubtfully. 

Perhaps you would rather I hadn’t done that,” she 
said; but I felt I would rather be disappointed with you 
than dance over the grave of our poor play. I shall never 
be able to speak civilly to Mr. Campbell again.” 

“ Don’t let us talk about Campbell, please,” said Mc- 
Leod, hastily; I should say too much.” 

After all the trouble you have had! Can’t you have 
the thing some other time ? ” 

McLeod shook his head. 

The Bells leave in a few days; they stayed on espe- 
cially for this — ^fiasco. And I certainly couldn’t ask Mrs. 
Bell to act with Campbell again.” 

“ Believe me, you’re too tragic about it,” said Christina. 

Let’s go and argue it out somewhere,” she added, hastily, 
seeing George and his partner bearing down upon them. 

McLeod took her to find seats in a corner where some 
of the chairs had been piled. 

Probably she was right, he reflected, and his feeling 
about it all was overdone and morbid, and the result of 
nights without sleep. 

But overdone or not, the effect was the same. 

He hated failure, and he had failed. 

He had looked for the success or failure of this night as 
a sort of superstitious omen. 

Then he remembered that to Christina it must be a 
disappointment, too. How much more kindly she took it 
than the others had done. 


208 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


But why was she so much kinder? 

McLeod looked at her with a sharp suspicion, which he 
put into words a moment later. 

Would you talk as you do and he as friendly as you 
are if things were different with me?” 

I hope you don’t wish to imply that you think me for- 
ward ? ” said Christina, with forced lightness. 

You know what I mean,” said McLeod, in a low voice; 
“ are you kind to me — as a dying man? ” 

He looked at her with grave, earnest brown eyes, and 
she felt compelled to answer him simply and truthfully. 

It is very hard to work out one’s own motives,” she 
said, slowly. I daresay what you have said to me does 
influence me. But I know the top motive is the selfish one 
of liking to talk to you, whatever the others may he. There, 
that’s honestly the truth.” 

“ You can turn me into a story,” said McLeod, with a 
faint smile, and you won’t have long to wait for the last 
chapter.” 

Christina turned to face him suddenly. 

Captain McLeod,” she said, “ you^ are not going to 
give in? I did think you had pluck to fight to the last.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Campbell came slowly into McLeod’s room as the latter 
was fastening his riding gaiters. 

His usual cheerful, noisy manner was quite gone. He 
looked white and downcast, and unspeakably ashamed of 
himself. 

He had undergone a very formal subalterns’ court-mar- 
tial in the dead hours of the night before, and had been 
condemned to apologize to everybody under pain of severe 
measures on the part of the court. 

McLeod looked up and then returned to his gaiter. 

Won’t you sit down, Campbell,” he said, politely; and 
nothing could have more distinctly marked his displeas- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


209 


ure than such unusual politeness. Do you want any- 
thing? 

“ McLeod,” said Campbell, and then he came to a dead 
stop for a few minutes. 

Look here,” he began again, nervously. I can’t say 
more than that I am sorry — that I would give a hundred 
pounds not to have made such a hog of myself.” 

You can’t say more — of course not,” said McLeod. - 
Would you mind looking if my crop is behind you? ” 

Oh, if you are going to take it like that,” said Camp- 
bell, dismally. 

He stood looking on idly while McLeod made his prep- 
arations. 

Of course, I know you’ve a lot to complain of,” he 
began again; but, upon my soul, I don’t know how it 
happened. It’s not so pleasant for me, either. I have to go 
and apologize to Mrs. Bell, and I swear I’d rather lose a 
year of my life. The Lord knows how I am to look anybody 
in Malta in the face again, after making such a hideous ass 
of myself.” 

McLeod said nothing. 

I am sure I had better stick to barracks for the rest 
of the winter,” said Campbell, disconsolately. 

“ I feel for you,” said McLeod. I shouldn’t he sur- 
prised if it took you a full week to recover.” 

Campbell stood looking at him in dismal silence, while 
he took up his cap and whip and prepared to go out. He 
had had an immense worship and admiration for McLeod 
ever since he had joined, and his hero was to all appearance 
implacable. 

“Well, if you are going to drop me, I can’t help it,” 
he said— “ nor wonder very much either, I suppose.” 

“Rot! I am not going to drop you, as you call it. I 
suppose you don’t expect me to be particularly grateful to 
you for having made a fool of me before half Malta,” said 
McLeod, coldly. 

“ You won’t drop me, hut I may go to the devil my own 
way. Very well. I hope you will have a pleasant ride.” 

McLeod walked down to the stables, with the dismal 
fiasco of the night before still too indignantly fresh in his 
mind for an unnecessary word to be said to Campbell. 


210 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


He rode down to Strada Mezzodi, to call for Mrs. Stod- 
dart, with a gloomy face, and they started upon their ride 
very silently. 

Christina had a good many things to think of, too. She 
had avoided a disagreeable interview with George by say- 
ing nothing to him about her arrangement with McLeod 
for that afternoon; but by doing so she had only postponed 
the evil hour. 

Was she very wrong in giving George such clear 
and just ground for complaint? If McLeod had been as 
other men, there could have been no doubt as to the an- 
swer. 

They rode round to Sliema almost in silence, and then 
McLeod made a suggestion. 

“ Shall we get boys to hold the ponies,’’ he said, and 
go right on, down over the rocks to the end of the harbour? 
There will be splendid waves there this afternoon.” 

“ I should like it very much,” said Christina, as she 
would have said to almost any proposition of his just then. 

They dismounted, and went on along a narrow path, 
past the fort, where groups of soldiers were spending a lazy 
afternoon, on over the rocks, till they came almost within 
reach of the dashing waves. 

The open sea was before them, and great green waves 
came swelling in, bursting into whiteness against the rocks, 
and sending flying drops of salt water into quite distant 
little pools and crannies. 

One or two green Ashing boats were tossing about among 
the white-tipped waves. Their brown sails now rose high 
in air, now dipped down till almost out of sight. 

It is glorious! ” said Chris. ma, pausing, while the salt 
wind tossed her hair and a dash of spray came wet and cold 
against her cheek; ^‘^but don’t let us go any nearer. The 
rocks are quite wet, and my riding boots slip so.” 

McLeod stopped, standing tall and powerful in front of 
her, with a background of sea and sky. He took off his cap 
and held it in his hand, letting the breeze blow on his un- 
covered head. 

Christina had never noticed before what strong, capable 
hands his were, and what strength there was about his whole 
appearance and bearing. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


211 


She could scarcely keep a cowardly suggestion of over- 
haste out of her voice as she proposed that they should sit 
down. 

McLeod found her a fairly comfortable rock for a seat; 
he stood beside her, looking out over the sea. He broke 
silence first. 

“ Do you remember what you said to me last night about 
having pluck to fight on to the last? I am very glad you 
said it.^’ 

His eyes were on the sea, and he spoke half to him- 
self. 

Do you know what it is,’^ he said, to have a strong 
temptations tugging at you, and to have to fight against it 
all you know — not just now and then, hut always, always, 
night and day? And worse at night. I can he^r the waves 
in my room at barracks when it is quiet in the night. I 
should he afraid to come here this afternoon if it wasn’t for 
you.” 

Christina sat very still and upright. 

“ I am not a bit afraid,” she said, in a steady voice. I 
know you are not a coward.” 

I shall fight on till the last,” said McLeod, with his 
grave brown eyes full on her face; ^^hut, Mrs. Stoddart, 
when a day comes that there is certainty, when there is no 
more fighting and no more hope, will you call me a coward 
if I take the only way out of it? ” 

You are asking me a dreadful question.” 

But if I have pluck, so have you. You will answer 
me, won’t you? I can’t face such a death in life as my 
brother’s. Could Will you blame me? ” 

Don’t talk as if there, was no hope,” said Christina; 
and if there was, though it might he the easiest way for 
you ” 

Thank God, there is no one else to think of.” 

McLeod stood looking at her expectantly. He had 
begun to view his own judgment with doubt and hesita- 
tion. Christina knew very well that if she answered him 
with a platitude, any influence she might have with him 
would he gone at once; he wanted the truth. 

She grew white. 

I — could not blame you,” she said. 


212 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


What had she done? Would she have cause to he sorry 
for her words all the rest of her life? 

Thank yon,” said McLeod, simply. 

He had been standing, still and expectant, hut now he 
came to establish himself on a rock beside her, half sitting, 
half leaning on one elbow. 

A vulgar panic at the thought of what George and 
Valetta would say could they have seen them filled Chris- 
tina’s mind for a minute. 

McLeod began to light a cigarette. 

Do you think it is worse or better to die when there 
is nobody to care ? ” he said, calmly. There was Beres- 
ford last year — that girl who was to have married him just 
thought the sun rose and set on him. He had to fight for 
his life for her sake to the very last.” 

I don’t think you ought to brood over that,” said 
Christina; it isn’t right.” 

Somehow she and McLeod seemed to have quite changed 
places this afternoon. 

It’s never quite out of my mind,” he said. I don’t 
see how it could he. It works round often into convincing 
me that it is just for me to take my life to pay for his. And 
then I know my reasoning is crooked somewhere, and won- 
der if I am sane or mad.” 

What would he say to that sort of reasoning himself? ” 
said Christina. She found it hard indeed to choose what 
words were best and safest. 

McLeod suddenly smiled broadly. 

^^He’d say, ^ Hang it all, old chap! who’s been letting 
out your sawdust?’ He always said that when he saw a 
fellow down on his luck, though I can’t for the life of me 
remember" what started the expression.” 

Then the amusement died out of his eyes. 

It’s like this,” he said; “I must face death or worse 
very soon. I can’t go on living like this. It is neither right 
nor safe.” 

Once when you were lecturing me on the evil of my 
ways,” said Christina, “ you said, ^ Go straight on as far as 
you can see; no one can do more.’ ” 

Yes,” said McLeod; but when a fellow can’t see any 
way at all, what then? ” 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


213 


• I wish — I wish I could help you! said Christina. 

The colour suddenly flushed into McLeod’s fair face at 
the earnestness of her voice. 

Help me? I should think you have helped me— just 
by letting me speak out/’ he said. What a selfish brute I 
am! Let’s go home, or shall we go to the Ruskins to tea on 
our way? I won’t ask you to ride with me again.” 

“ If you don’t, I shall ask you,” said Christina. 

“ Do you know,” said McLeod, as he helped her over 
the rocks, I was awfully sorry I had told you at first, but 
by Jove! I’m not now! ” 

He talked cheerfully and pleasantly all the way home. 
It was Christina who was inclined to he a little absent. 

What would come of it all? 

Was it possible or right for her to repulse McLeod’s 
friendship, now that she was clearly of use to him and might 
even be a safeguard? 

But still George seemed to make such a friendship im- 
possible — George and the Malta gossips. As a married 
woman, she had no right to disregard what people might 
say of her and her husband. But, in common humanity, 
could she throw away a chance of being a comfort to Mc- 
Leod, when there was no evil about it, only the possibility 
of “ an appearance of evil.” She honestly tried to put her 
own feeling out of the question: the pleasure of talking 
freely and intimately with a gentleman, and a certain sense 
of flattered vanity in being chosen for McLeod’s confidence. 

If she had been a girl and free, how gladly, she told 
herself, would she have disregarded gossip on the chance 
of being of use to him. 

And, most puzzling of all, was it right for her to keep 
his secret ? She might find reason to regret having done so 
terribly. 

But could she betray his confidence? He trusted her 
so completely that he had not even asked her for a promise. 

And who could she tell? If she told George, she knew 
she might as well publish it in the streets of Valetta. There 
was a weight of the responsibility she dreaded whichever 
way she turned. 

Her own affairs were in themselves quite sufficiently 
puzzling. 


214 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Was it possible for her to remain with George, now thai 
his indifference, which had made life endurable, was become 
a thing of the past ? 

At the end of April or beginning of May the Dauntless 
was to pay off, in all probability going home first. Then it 
was possible George might again be sent to a distant station 
— Australia, Mauritius, somewhere too far away and too ex- 
pensive for her to go out. 

But it was equally possible, perhaps more so, that he 
might not. 

Other men’s wives had, she knew, helped to work such 
things, but that she would not do. She must leave it to 
chance. 

If George’s lines were cast in England, what then? 
Should she then finally make up her mind to give up the 
rest of her life to him or to leave him? 

These questions must all be settled some day. In the 
meantime, awaiting a decisive inspiration, Christina pur- 
sued her favourite policy of masterly inactivity. 


CHAPTER XYII. 

Thebe! ” said Miss White — there’s McLeod gone up 
to the Stoddarts’ box again. It’s positively disgraceful! ” 

The acerbity in her tone was emphasized by the non- 
arrival of the generally faithful Mr. Taylor. 

She had remarked to her mother on an average twice 
every five minutes since their arrival at the opera, that she 
would give it to him well when he came, and that it made 
you feel such a fool not to have a man in the box. She 
had even made an affectation of sitting with her back to 
the stage, so that the Bernards, almost opposite, should 
imagine she was talking to somebody in the recesses of the 
box. 

The opera was Cavalleria Rusticana; both Mrs. and Miss 
White had seen it several times before, but they had not 
and did not want to have the smallest idea what it was all 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


215 


about. Miss White found the stalls much more attractive 
than the stage. 

Soldiers were just beginning to come in in twos and 
threes after mess, and there was already a large contingent 
of naval officers, far outnumbering the Maltese, who were 
few on a White night.” 

The Camerons were there in force, two lengthening 
rows of them — some listening, one or two talking, and a 
couple asleep in ungraceful attitudes. Grant and some 
others had already begun a round of box-visiting. 

“ Mother,” said Miss White, isffit George Stoddart a 
fool not to put a stop to that sort of business? For all so 
high and mighty as she is, Mrs. Stoddart is making a dead 
set at McLeod. I expect she would take a chance of being 
Lady Drumesk at any price, if he is such a fool as to give it 
to her. Upon my word, there are two more men going into 
her box. What on earth can they see in her? I am sure 
she’s not pretty.” 

I see Captain WTshaw in the stalls. I expect he will 
come up and see us,” said Mrs. White, by way of soothing 
her daughter’s irritable mood. 

Captain Wishaw! Horrid, fat old man!” said Miss 
White, contemptuously. 

Then the entrance of Mr. Taylor and a couple of friends 
proved mollifying. 

Miss White preserved a dignified coldness for some time, 
but gradually allowed herself to be appeased. 

I am awfully sorry,” said Mr. Taylor, but I couldn’t 
manage to get here sooner.” 

am sure I don’t care if you had never come,” said 
Miss White, in graceful badinage; and now the best thing 
you can do is to go over to the Bernards’ box. Miss Bernard 
is looking across at you, and I don’t like to see a girl never 
able to get a man to speak to. Do go; it would be a charity, 
and I assure you I can get on without you. Somehow, I 
have always plenty of men friends.” 

I am not going for a hundred Miss Bernards,” said 
Mr. Taylor. 

In his heart he .had a sneaking admiration for pretty, 
gentle kUss Bernard; but he knew his duty better than to 
venture to speak to her while in attendance on Miss White. 


216 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


am sure I don’t want you! ” said Miss White, tap- 
ping his arm with her fan. If you won’t go there, I wish 
you would go to the Stoddarts’ box, and help the husband 
to play propriety. The great unknown is turning into an 
ordinary fellow very quick.” 

What ? That Cameron chap ? Report says it is only 
a question of weeks there,” said Mr. Taylor. He was popu- 
larly distinguished as having the worst tongue in Malta. 

It is a well-known fact that all Malta scandals can he 
traced to the club, and if further followed up, they were 
generally found to have Mr. Taylor as a starting point. 

Miss White roused herself at once into excitement. 

Oh, I hope” she said, “ it isn’t as bad as that. But 
I must say I did see them come in very late from a ride 
yesterday, and though I couldn’t absolutely see from the bal- 
cony, if his arm wasn’t round her waist, it was the next 
thing to it.” 

As you couldn’t see, Beatrice, and indeed in any case, 
wouldn’t it have been more good-natured to keep that to 
yourself? ” said Mrs. White. 

But really, Mrs. White, everybody says the same,” 
said Mr. Taylor; and you can’t help seeing Stoddart is 
furiously jealous — just have a look at his face through my 
opera glass now.” 

“ And Hora Giveen’s mother said, I know for a fact, that 
she thought her far too giddy to chaperon Nora to the last 
club hall, as she offered to do.” 

You see, McLeod never would speak to a woman, and 
now he’s at her beck and call,” Mr. Taylor explained. She 
had a bouquet of flowers for the last club ball, which of 
course was given by him, and yesterday, when I was at 
Casal Lia for tea, I saw those two, to all appearance quite 
alone.” 

Unintentionally, in his over-enthusiastic zeal for truth, 
Mr. Taylor was the means of preserving a few remaining 
shreds of poor Christina’s character. 

I should like to know what you were doing at Casal 
Lia yesterday afternoon, Mr. Taylor, when you told me you 
couldn’t come to drive with me because you were busy at 
barracks,” said Miss White, turning on him sharply. 

^^Now you are going to catch it, Taylor! ” said one of 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


217 


the other two men, and everybody laughed except Mr. 
Taylor, who got rather red and embarrassed among his ex- 
cuses. He was very submissive and obedient, and was popu- 
larly supposed to be engaged to Miss White, but he occa- 
sionally lied for temporary freedom. 

They made it up again shortly, and found exhilarating 
amusement in dropping bits of paper upon the bald head 
of a favoured sailor beneath. 

Gossip was rampant, now that the season was drawing 
to a close. Everybody knew everything about everybody 
else in Valetta; it was an open secret how often each couple 
had danced together, and which flirtations might be confl- 
dently expected to end in something more serious, as distin- 
guished from those in which one or both of the people 
interested only wanted a winter’s amusement. It was 
equally an open secret that Mrs. Tomlins had quarrel- 
led with her cook, because she (Mrs. Tomlins) would insist 
on going to market; that a very high and important dig- 
nitary had sent his daughter home, in consequence of her 
persistence in considering herself engaged to a penniless 
naval lieutenant; that Mrs. Lester had been quietly re- 
quested to leave Morell’s hotel, though she said she had 
found it unhealthy; and that Mr. Campbell of the Cam- 
eron Highlanders had been seen drunk in Strada Reale at 
twelve o’clock in the day. 

Mr. Taylor even knew considerably more than there 
was to know. 

The opera was of course a splendid place for observa- 
tion. It was to be confldently calculated upon which box 
or boxes each officer would be sure to visit in the course of 
the evening, and in which he would be expected and would 
not go. If a man made a new acquaintance or neglected an 
old one, it was a subject for prompt and interested comment. 

Miss White and Mr. Taylor went the round of the opera 
house conscientiously, and resurrected old scandals and dis- 
covered new ones to their hearts’ content. They came to 
Gerty Ruskin-Boyd in time, after an exhaustive discussion 
of a few of her father’s latest escapades. 

“ She’s got herself nicely talked about! ” said Mr. Tay- 
lor, looking across at the Ruskins’ box. 

A girl always does, if she throws herself at a man’s 


218 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


head,” said Miss White, virtuously. I am really sorry for 
her now, poor girl. Captain Grant has no eyes for any one 
but Mrs. Bell. How miserable she looks! There, her 
mother spoke to her and she half turned her hack. She has 
a temper, that young lady! ” 

l)o you remember that afternoon we saw her on the 
library roof, talking across to Grant, when he was on 
guard? ” said Mr. Taylor. 

How there mightnT be much harm in that,” said Mrs. 
White. It doesn’t look well from the street, I grant you, 
hut the girl might do it without thinking any harm.” 

It must he acknowledged that Mrs. White had a guilty 
sense of finding Mr. Taylor’s gossip amusing, though she 
frequently made kindly protest. 

Oh, that’s nothing,” said her daughter, hastily. Do 
you remember, Eddy, when we came upon them at tea at 
Blackleys? ” — Miss White apparently forgot that upon that 
occasion she and Mr. Taylor had also b^een alone — and 
once, when we found them miles out in the country — waTk- 
ing / ” 

Mrs. White again remonstrated. 

When you come to think of it, there’s not much more 
harm in walking than in riding and driving.” 

And at the last ship dance, she and Mr. Grant were 
on that upper part of the deck for ages, and he pretended 
he couldn’t come down the ladder because of his kilt! ” 

I have heard worse stories than that,” said Mr. Taylor, 
lowering his voice invitingly. 

Oh, do tell me,” said Miss AYhite, hut Mr. Taylor inti- 
mated that the occasion was too public. 

A girl like that is an astonishment to me ! ” said Miss 
White, in meditative tones; how she can make such a fool 
of herself! One would think she must know that all the 
men are laughing at her behind her back.” 

Here one of the men at the back of the box was over- 
come with mirth. 

Somehow or other, I have always been able to get on 
with men; I am sure I don’t know why. Good gracious! 
there are Mrs. Pratt and Captain Jones-Parry alone in a 
box again — what can her husband be thinking of! ” 

In this new interest, poor ‘Gerty temporarily escaped. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


219 


In the meanwhile, Gerty was not troubling herself much 
about outside observation. She was having a very dull 
evening, and a very anxious and unhappy one. 

She had begged and implored her mother to take her 
to the opera that evening. Lent though it might he, till 
Lady Ruskin, against her conscience as a good Catholic, 
had given in. She had extravagantly put on her prettiest 
dress, and had made her maid do her hair three separate 
times before she was satisfied. And she would have done 
better to stay at home. 

Captain Grant had known she was coming; with a des- 
perate effort to ignore to herself any remissness on his part 
during this last week, Gerty had sent him a little note, as he 
had often begged her to do before. Then, she had always 
laughed lightly, and said that writing was too much bother, 
and that if he did not think it worth while to come on the 
chance, he might stay and play whist at barracks; now she 
had sent him a note unasked. 

And he had never come near her the whole evening. 

She had seen him come in, in the middle of the first 
act, with Gordon, and take his seat with the rest of the 
regiment. He had not looked towards their box and bowed, 
as he had always done before. 

At the end of the first act he had got up, walked to the 
door, and taken a meditative survey of the house, looking 
so many times handsomer than any man there, Gerty had 
said to herself. She had watched him disappear, full of 
hope, and had sat for the next five minutes in eager expect- 
ancy of a tap at the box door. One or two had come, hut 
not his. 

Then she had seen him appear in the Bells’ box, which 
was just opposite. Mr. Bell rose to give him a seat, and 
after a few words had been exchanged he went out; then 
Grant took a chair next Mrs. Bell, and bent his handsome 
head over hers, and played with her fan in the very way 
he had often done with Gerty’s. 

Gerty sat and looked on, flushing and paling, bursting 
into nervous speech with intervals of strained silence, 
watching him with the eagerness of hope deferred. 

Every movement he made might he preliminary to get- 
ting up to say good-by. 


220 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Lady Ruskin watched her. She could see everything 
and she could do nothing. She tried every now and then 
to call Gerty’s attention to the stage, knowing, as she did, 
how absolutely the girl was putting herself at the mercy 
of Malta gossip. 

But Gerty was only longing, counting the minutes to the 
end of the act, when it might be concluded Captain Grant’s 
unconscionably long visit to the Bells would end. 

“ Perhaps — how stupid she had been! — probably — they 
had asked him to their box, and he could not in politeness 
get away sooner. Surely he would come during the next 
act. He had said often that half the pleasure of the opera 
was to be with some one who was sympatico’’ and that 
she was very sympatico” 

When the act ended. Grant got up. He stood for a long 
time talking to Mrs. Bell. In answer to something he said, 
she gave him a flower from her bouquet, with a laughing 
reference to her husband, who had just come in. 

Even when the box door was opened, she called Grant 
hack to say something — evidently something amusing, for 
they all laughed a great deal. 

But at last the door finally closed behind him, and in 
breathless impatience Gerty waited, Gerty and her mother, 
too. 

There was a tap at the box door. 

Gerty turned with shining eyes, and a voice that could 
not say Come in ” quite steadily. 

And Andrew McLeod came in. 

A look of absolute despair came into the girl’s shallow 
blue eyes. 

McLeod took the chair next her — the chair she had 
kept, half hidden by her dress, reserved for Grant. How if 
he came, he must sit beside her mother. Oh, it was too bad 
of Andrew! 

McLeod saw he had incurred Gerty’s displeasure, hut 
he had no idea in what way he had offended; he had taken 
the chair beside her entirely with a wish to he kind, as per- 
sonally he found his cousin supremely uninteresting. 

But Gerty need not have been annoyed — Grant never 
came. 

Gradually, as the long acts of the Cavalleria Rusticana 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


221 


followed one another, her feverish impatience changed into 
strained desp’air. 

She would not listen to her mother’s proposal that 
they should go home, answering her with sharp rude- 
ness. 

Grant went in and out of boxes, raising faint, desperate 
hopes in her heart, only to he dashed to the ground. He 
even went hack to the Bells, and spent another half act 
with them, but he never came near the Ruskins’ box; and, 
as the evening wore on, Gerty grew more and more incapa- 
ble of hiding her misery. 

Her father, who had been making a round of boxes all 
evening, like the jovial old gentleman he was, rallied her 
upon her gloomy looks, and received such a hitter retort 
that he stared at her. 

Gerty had never felt miserable in all her life before, and 
she did not like the sensation. 

It was not Captain Grant’s fault that they met at all 
that evening — rather his misfortune. 

Mr. Grant of the Dauntless had, in festive mood, in- 
vited a selection of guests to supper at the Grand ITotel 
after the opera, and his supper innocently included both 
the Ruskins and his brother. 

He even was so far from being xip to date as to place 
Grant and Gerty side by side. 

Grant was quite equal to the occasion. 

What did you think of Cavalleria Rusticana? ” he said. 

A trifle long, isn’t it? ” 

What is the matter with you? ” said Gerty. 

Captain Grant knew the carrying properties of her voice 
well, and looked round with misgiving. 

‘^Matter?” he said — ‘^nothing. What will you have? ” 
I don’t want anything,” said Gerty. I want to know 
if you are offended about anything. Why are you so dif- 
ferent? ” 

am certainly not offended,” said Grant, smiling 
agreeably, ^^and I am sorry if I am different. I really 
think you had better have some chicken; and you are turn- 
ing your back on that fellow next to you.” 

Gerty looked at him as he stroked his moustache and 
smiled upon her with determinod indifference. 

15 


222 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Well, will you come for a ride to-morrow? she said, 
desperately; I want to speak to you/^ 

You flatter me,” said Grant, “ but I am afraid I am 
engaged to-morrow — some other day.” 

Gerty might have realized she need say no more — an 
older or a wiser girl certainly would. 

Well, the day after?” she persisted. 

“ I am afraid I can^t go this week, but some day next 
week; wefll settle about it some other time. — Jack, pass 
the champagne this way, will you? 

Captain Grant was rather angry and annoyed with 
Gerty. What was the use of bothering about explanations? 
Could she not take a hint and quietly drop the thing? 
What was the sense of making herself disagreeable, and in- 
sisting on having everything in black and white? 

There was Lady Eva Wrench — a sensible girl. She had 
never even shown that she had noticed any change in his 
manner, and so when they did happen to meet now there 
was no discomfort about it. 

But after this, he would certainly keep out of Gerty’s 
way. 

If he had proposed to her or in any way committed him- 
self, it would have been different; hut just for a few tender 
words, and an occasional caress — he did not count an un- 
limited temporary devotion — to make all this fuss and put 
on these tragedy airs! 

If you don’t want to he friends any longer,” said Gerty, 
‘^just say so; but what is the reason'^ You used to like 
talking to me, and now you only want to get away. You 
used to say you would rather talk to me than to any one. 
I only want to know what the reason is.” 

Don’t talk so loud,” said Grant, hastily. It is ab- 
surd to ask me for the reason. If I don’t talk to you, I sup- 
pose it is because I have found somebody I like talking to 
better.” 

There, he was very sorry, hut she would have plain 
speaking, and he only hoped she would not hurst into tears 
and make a scene. 

She did not. Instead, she suddenly brightened up, with 
a pink spot in her cheeks. 

‘^All right,” she said; that’s all I wanted to know. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


223 


Hang it! doesn’t your brother know better than to give the 
leg of a chicken to a lady? ” 

Thank goodness! ” said Grant to himself. He was 
delighted to be able to turn to the girl on his left. 

Gerty was excitedly gay. She believed she had deceived 
everybody — that no one but she and Grant knew anything 
of what had passed, and pride and excitement kept her up. 
There would be time enough to realize it all later on. 

But, of course, nobody was deceived. Everybody in the 
room knew all about it, and had prophesied it for some 
time. 

Lady Ruskin was not a much better actor than Gerty; 
her anxious looks towards her daughter, her eagerness to 
go home, and her chilly good-night to Grant were all easily 
read. 

It would have been better to have parted from Gerty 
that night in silence, but she could not. 

When they were at home together, after many anxious 
looks at her daughter. Lady Ruskin spoke, and knocked 
down the poor little barrier of pride which had been Gerty’s 
one comfort and safeguard from despair. She had dis- 
graced herself in Grant’s eyes, but till then she had had 
the foolish hope that nobody else knew. 

Gerty dear,” Lady Ruskin said, gently, I don’t think 
we will ask Mr. Grant any more.” 

Gerty flared up. 

‘^And why not? It is all very well for you to talk, 
mamma, but it is all your fault — all! You kept me at home 
in Lent, and of course he met other people, and of course 
— I mean it is annoying to feel you have fallen out of it. 
I told you that would happen. It’s all your fault! ” 

And Gerty fled away upstairs to shed the bitterest tears 
she had ever known in her happy, shallow young life. 

As for Captain Grant, he went back cheerfully to bar- 
racks. He had nothing to reproach himself with — he had 
never asked Gerty to marry him. 


224 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Cheistijta had come to tea with George on board the 
Dauntless. 

She had been across the Grand Harbour to pay some 
calls, and had stopped at the Dauntless on the way back by 
special arrangement. 

They had had tea in George’s cabin with Mr. Grant, 
who had just come on hoard to keep the dogwatch, and then 
he had gone on deck, and Christina had unfortunately hap- 
pened to remark that if George had been a lieutenant, she 
would often have brought her work or a book on hoard 
when it was his watch. 

George chose to twist this speech into a veiled sneer at 
his rank as engineer; he had developed a habit of taking 
the most innocent remarks up wrongly of late days. 

Christina not unnaturally felt herself somewhat si- 
lenced. She sat playing with a biscuit, and looking out 
thoughtfully through the porthole at a small rounded pic- 
ture of steps and houses. 

Well,” said George, I wish you hadn’t come if you 
are going to look so miserable.” 

‘^I don’t feel miserable, but you’ve snubbed away all 
my conversation. Shall I make you pretty new shades for 
your electric light, George, or would you like a lot of spangly 
ballet girls, with transparent petticoats, like those Mr. Grant 
has in his cabin ? ” 

Oh, I don’t want you to bother making conversation 
for me,” said George; you are bored, I can see that, now 
you have only me to talk to.” 

^‘My dear George, I can’t be perpetually grinning 
broadly or dancing the 'pas de quatre through the cabin,” 
said Christina, rather impatiently. If you are going to 
take up everything I say wrongly, don’t you think I had 
better be silent ? ” 

^•^You are awfully unkind, Kitty,” said George, pet- 
tishly. - As long as Grant is there, you can talk and laugh 
well enough, but I am not worth bothering about. At the 
dance last night ” 

Christina laughed a little, not very comfortably. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


225 


I thought we should come to that/^ she said. She had 
not an absolutely clear conscience, and yet she could not 
feel George to he entirely in the right. He had allowed 
himself to become so excited the night before, and had 
laughed and talked so loudly, and been almost rude to her 
publicly. 

Well, you must know it is not the thing for a lady to 
sit out a dance at the club with a man who is not at the 
dance — not dressed even.” 

Now, George, Captain McLeod was fully dressed — in 
fact, you must admit that trews are a more complete dress 
than a kilt.” 

I am not joking, Christina. It wasn’t the thing. It 
made people talk, and goodness knows they do that without 
any excuse. You know quite well that I have something 
to complain of about that young man. Why, this morn- 
ing; when we met the regiment marching, I saw him smile 
at you.” 

In spite of herself, Christina laughed a little. 

What an appalling accusation! You ought to report 
him to the colonel. But as for me, I never know one man 
from another in those helmets.” 

She Avas weary of the subject — weary of the constant 
recurrence of McLeod’s name, and the constant disagree- 
ments that folloAved. 

It is perfectly absurd to he jealous of Captain Mc- 
Leod, poor fellow,” she ended, rather impatiently, but real- 
izing while she spoke that it Avas impossible for George, Avho 
kneAv nothing, to see McLeod Avith her eyes. Some day 
perhaps he would understand. 

She had succeeded in making him thoroughly angry 
for the moment. 

Jealous? What in the Avorld Avas she talking about? 
lie jealous? Was there ever such a ridiculous idea? 

Ridiculous indeed,” said Christina, artfully, "Avhen 
Ave shall he going home so soon, and probably never see any 
of them again.” 

He visibly brightened. 

Kit,” said he, in a more friendly tone, I think I 
may go to Cook’s and take your passage any day.” 

Christina gasped. She had been talking vaguely of 


226 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


going home, but as an immediate prospect the idea took 
away her breath, 

George proceeded calmly to light his pipe as he went 
on speaking. He liked Malta better than most men, hut 
change and movement had become, through long custom, 
completely a matter of course to him. 

“ You see, if the Dauntless goes to England to pay off, 
we shall start about the 18th of April; and you had better 
leave a little sooner, so that I can shut up the flat and ar- 
range everything for you,” 

And so that you are not left in Malta alone,” Chris- 
tina knew he added mentally. 

Somehow I hadn’t begun to realize it was so near,” 
she said, in a low voice. 

What would going to England mean ? Would it he more 
endurable than life at Malta with George, or would it be 
worse ? 

Where were they to live till he got his next ship? Would 
she he asked to stay with her father and mother, and could 
she hear to go there with George? She could fancy her 
mother’s raised eyebrows at all his vulgarities, her politely 
veiled sneers which he would never see. 

George spoke as if in answer to her unasked question. 
Will you write to my mother, Kitty, or shall I? I 
think we ought to go and stay with her first.” 

His mother! A feminine edition of George — probably, 
as she was of an earlier generation, worse. Perhaps fat and 
untidy, like Mrs. White. 

His mother and sisters had a shop, and not a very flour- 
ishing one, in Manchester. 

There had been something delightfully radical in Chris- 
tina’s once sublimated ideas of that shop. She knew Lady 
Margaret Dalison, who was an established society dress- 
maker, and was applauded by all her friends in consequence, 
and she had once gone for afternoon tea to a refreshment 
cafe started by some girls, whose father had mightily 
smashed in aristocratic fashion over horse-racing. 

She had fancied something of the kind to herself 
for George’s mother, hut now, she told herself, she knew 
better. 

But he was perfectly right; it was impossible to object 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 227 

to his very natural proposal, unless, indeed, she made up 
her mind to object to him altogether. 

I will write if you like, dear,’^ she said, and a moment 
afterwards she added, How long do you expect it will be 
before you get your next ship? ’’ 

I want to talk to you about that,” said George, with 
a little nervousness in his manner. “ Supposing I don’t 
get a home appointment next time? I ought to, but sup- 
posing I don’t?” 

Christina was silent; she listened breathlessly. 

“For instance, if I am appointed to a ship going to 
China again, or Australia or even Halifax — what about 
you? ” 

She could hardly answer. 

“ I should have to stay at home,” she said; “ but surely, 
George, that’s not possible.” 

“ At best,” said George, slowly, “ it only means a year 
or two at home, and it’s very little money.” 

Christina had succeeded in enlarging his ideas in one 
direction, and that under the circumstances an undesirable 
one. A few months ago he had considered his £180 a year, 
added to her £400, quite a satisfactory income. 

“ I’ll tell you what I have been meditating, old child,” 
he said; “ what would you think if I got something to do 
at home? There are my mother and sisters, Kitty; they 
need a man to look after them, and they would be first-rate 
company for you. I am sure you would like them. Of 
course, they could drop the shop. Mother has a little money 
of her own, and one of the girls is a lady clerk in the post 
office. What would you say to settling down close to them, 
or even in the same house, if you liked each other.” 

Christina was glad that he had gone on speaking for so 
long; it had given her time to collect her thoughts and to 
control her voice before she had to speak. It was such a 
complete downfall and destruction of all her hopes — some- 
thing so much worse than she had ever feared. 

“ But wouldn’t you hate to leave the navy? ” she said, 
in a low voice. 

George put down his pipe and came over to her, put- 
ting his arm caressingly round her, and raising her face 
to kiss her heartily. 


228 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


She kept herself rigidly from shrinking away from 
him. It had come to such a pass with her that his very 
nearness and touch were disgusting. 

Darling old child/^ he said, you don’t know how 
fond I am of you. I am not going to he without you for 
another three years. We’ll stay at home and be Darby and 
Joan together — eh, old woman?” 

His paroxysm of jealousy had evaporated. It was only 
at times that his curious awakened love for his wife pierced 
through his armour of vanity. At others, even his con- 
sciousness of the gossip of Vaietta, his knowledge of ChrivS- 
tina’s unaccountable and unconquerable predilection for 
Captain McLeod, could not disturb him. And always after 
a fit of jealousy he was more effusively affectionate than 
ever. 

Darling mine, we’ll have a nice little house next door 
to the old mother’s, and we’ll ha've a few nice people to come 
and see us in the afternoons, and the sisters in and out. 
Manchester is quite a gay place — lots of fun and nice 
people.” 

Christina’s heart sank. 

George beamed upon her. 

“ Some old flames of mine there. You won’t he jealous, 
old child? Just think, only three weeks more in Malta; 
isn’t it ripping?” 

Only three weeks more, and then George’s friends to 
be hers for the rest of her life! Could she hear it, or could 
she he cruel enough to George not to hear it? 


CHAPTER XIX. 

1 SAY, Tommy, stop a minute, will you? Where are 
you posting to ? ” 

McLeod paused, looking very hot and full of business. 
The second quarter of a polo match, army vs. navy, was 
just over, having ended with a triumphant goal, which he 
had made all by himself, and he was proportionably elated. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


229 


I’m going to have a drink, of course,” he said; if you 
had been playing polo in this wind and dust, you wouldn’t 
ask.” 

I have a message for you from Adams,” said McFer- 
ran. He told me to ask you if you would go and see a 
fellow from your company who is in hospital. He’s afraid 
he won’t pull through, and he’s always asking for you.” 

McLeod started. 

‘'Sergeant Malcolm?” he said. “Why I saw him on 
Thursday, and he was getting on splendidly.” 

“ Well, there’s something gone wrong with his arm, and 
Adams says if his life is to be saved it must come olf, and 
the man won’t agree. It’s a pity of him; he was a smart 
young fellow and very steady, wasn’t he? ” 

“ He knew his work better than any other man in my 
company,” said McLeod. “ I shouldn’t have been surprised 
if Malcolm had got a commission some day.” 

“ His soldiering is over in any case,” said McFerran; 
“ but there’s a good chance of his life, and Adams thought 
perhaps you would go and talk sense to him. The nurse 
tells him he’s always quoting ‘ the captain.’ ” 

McLeod stood meditatively, smoking a cigarette, wdth 
his hands in the pockets of his long overcoat. 

“ All right,” he said;' “ I’ll go after the match. But 
I don’t know whether my advice and Adams’s will be the 
same.” 

McFerran went back to the crowd of spectators, and 
McLeod went on for his drink, which was necessarily a 
somewhat hurried one. 

Then it was time for the next quarter. There was pleas- 
ure to be got out of life still, he knew, when he felt Hur- 
el-din bounding about under him, full of eagerness. 

The others enjoyed themselves in a comfortable, mod- 
erate way. They did not know the intensity.it added to a 
pleasure to feel always that it might be yours for the last 
time. None of them could enjoy the excitement of the 
struggle, the mad gallop of many horses, the triumph of 
victory, as he did. 

McLeod had never played before as he played that day. 
He was always ready, his strokes never failed to be well 
given and steady. 


230 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


When the match was over, and everybody proclaimed 
that the victory of the army was practically due to him, he 
knew it was true. 

The Camerons were immensely delighted. McLeod had 
been the only man chosen out of their regiment; they had 
known that he was always particularly well mounted, and 
that he was a steady and unselfish player, and never lost his 
head, but they had scarcely expected him to distinguish 
himself so signally. 

They crowded round him as he got off his smoking 
pony. 

Well done. Bones, for the honour of the regiment! ” 
said Gordon. 

Those naval chaps were working for a beating. I am 
glad they have got it.” 

Very much astonished they are, too! They thought 
they had nothing to do but to go in and win.” 

Kerr was in bad form, and Osborne was hampered with 
that new pony of his, or we would hardly have worked that 
last goal,” said McLeod. 

Perhaps Ananias will be convinced they weren’t so 
entirely blind to their own interests when they chose you 
instead of him,” said Seton-Kerr. 

Though he doesn’t consider polo worth playing out of 
England,” said Gordon, with an adoption of Grant’s grand- 
est manner. 

McLeod dismissed Tommy III, with a word to his 
groom, and went over to the pavilion with the others, still 
with the excitement of the game upon him. 

When he came out of the dressing room later on, he 
found Grant and a number of the others standing round 
discussing the match. 

Grant was in one of those moods which had gained him 
his nickname in the regiment. 

Decent polo out of England is past praying for,” he 
said, dismissing the possibility with a wave of his hand. 

I tell you, last leave I played in a match at Hurlingham 
that would make Kerr or any of the chaps here sit up.” 

I haven’t a doubt of it,” said a sailor, with warm ap- 
proval. “ I believe he thinks none of us ever played polo 
in England but himself,” he added as an aside. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


231 


Grant continued to lay down the law. 

“ Hardly a fellow here has any idea of the game. Their 
one idea is to hit the hall.” 

I have no doubt you can give us all points.” 

Oh, I donT say that,’ said Grant, modestly; but I 
was at a match this autumn 

And here he launched into a glowing and impossible 
account, which the others found amusing. 

The Camerons always marvelled that after long 3^ears 
of persistent snubbing. Grant was still capable of these out- 
breaks, which they found very objectionable. 

McLeod was not listening, and was making an arrange- 
ment to ride one of his late opponents’ horses in the Easter 
races, when he suddenly caught his cousin’s name. 

Nothing in it, I assure you,” said Grant, twisting his 
moustache and smiling consciously. Miss Ruskin-Boyd 
was very civil to me — very land, in fact. She is a jolly little 

girl, but to tell you the truth ” 

Grant,” said McLeod, very politely, would you mind 
coming outside for a minute? I want to speak to you.” 
In the inclosure he turned on him sharply. 

Look here. I’ll thank you to drop my cousin’s name,” 
he said. “ I have heard you speak of other ladies quite 
sufficiently to my disgust, but if you don’t take my advice 
in this case, you’ll be sorry for it.” 

Grant stared at him. What on earth do you mean ? ” 
I mean that you have behaved like a cad to my cousin, 
and that if it is in my power to prevent it — and I think,” 
said McLeod, slowly, it is — her name is not going to be 
tossed about among a lot of men by you.” 

Grant gave him an unpleasant look. 

You’ll find 3^our cousin has rather left her name at 
my mercy,” he said. She has been so kind as to give me 
— a great deal of encouragement.” 

Say that again to me or any one else,” said McLeod, 
and I shall know how to answer you.” 

Grant coloured hotly. If he had noticed McLeod, he 
would certainly not have used Gerty’s name in the pavilion, 
and, being naturally very good-tempered, at another time 
he would probably have apologized. But the slight, con- 
stant soreness of jealousy he felt towards McLeod was in- 


232 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


tensified for tlie moment by the polo match that after- 
noon. 

Of course,” he said with a sneer, no one could doubt 
your pluck, McLeod.” 

But he did not repeat his words, all the same, being 
quite conscious that the other man looked dangerous. 

The sneer went home. McLeod forced himself to make 
no answer. He was afraid of himself. 

You may well talk!” said Grant; ^^for all you are 
so tender of your cousin’s name, you have made Mrs. Stod- 
dart’s very common property.” 

What do you say ? ” 

Surely you don’t wish me to believe you are not aware 
that you and she are the talk of Malta. You have been 
seen with your arm round her waist, and ” 

“ You had better not repeat any more vulgar lies to 
me,” said McLeod, in a dangerous voice. Whatever he did, 
he must restrain himself. It was absurd to heed what Grant 
said. Everybody knew his reputation. 

There had been a good deal of suppressed ill feeling 
between them for some time. Grant knew that in any open 
rupture he would get the worst of it — all the fellows would 
be sure to side with McLeod. 

He did not venture to follow up his attack any further, 
but he was desirous of making himself as disagreeable as 
he could. 

It is absurd to stand here, scolding at each other like 
a couple of women,” he said, with a lofty smile. I should 
just like to say one last thing to you, as I don’t burn for 
another talk like this. If my subaltern is a chum of yours, 
as I believe, I wish you would see to him. I have done his 
work several times, and overlooked a lot, but, if he goes on 
as he is doing, I shan’t stand over him much longer.” 

I have nothing to say to the affairs of your company,” 
said McLeod, with finality. 

He turned his back on Grant, and walked slowly over to 
Seliba’s. 

McEerran had lent him his pony to ride round to hos- 
pital. 

His good spirits and enjoyment of life had gone in a 
sudden, complete way, which had been quite unknown to 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


233 


him before the last few weeks. He was naturally a calm, 
even-tempered individual, and these quick changes showed 
clearly that all was not well with him. 

As he rode to hospital, Grant^s words worried him. It 
was true enough. He saw plainly that he had behaved like 
a selfish brute to Mrs. Stoddart. He had considered him- 
self so completely beyond all possibilities of marriage or 
love with any woman — so completely set apart from other 
men — that he had forgotten that people who did not know 
would not think the same. 

But he ought not to have forgotten. If he had not 
been so engrossed with himself and his own troubles, he 
would not. 

There had been an evening — a warm moonlight even- 
ing ever so long ago — when he had realized that Christina 
and he had reached a dangerous point in their friendship. 
He had done his duty then; he had told her the truth, and 
put himself out of court forever with her. But when she 
knew, he had forgotten that other people did not. He 
could see her difficulty quite well. She had not liked to 
check him as she would have checked another man. And 
he had taken advantage of her kindness. 

He had behaved a thousand times worse than Grant, 
whose proceedings he had viewed with such disgust. 

He did nothing but harm to every one he came across. 
There was Campbell, too; he had taken him up and made 
a friend of him purposely, and then, when for the first time 
CampbelFs failing interfered with his pleasure, he had 
thrown him aside. 

Even Sergeant Malcolm— it was in his service and in 
preparation for his play that the man had had his arm 
broken. 

It would be justice undoubtedly to take his own life. 
Of what use was it to him or any one else ? 

McLeod rode up to the hospital gate with a puzzled 
frown on his face. He was so engrossed as almost to have 
ridden past it, and for quite a minute he could not remem- 
ber what he had come for. 

Sergeant Malcolm was a great deal worse; he could see 
that. 

The last day McLeod had seen him he had been able to 


234 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


sit up in bed and read the paper; now he was lying back, 
flushed and feverish, and evidently in pain. 

He was a good-looking, slight young fellow; McLeod 
had considered him the smartest and most trustworthy 
man he had, and he had always distinguished himself at 
company and regimental sports and football matches. 

He was one of the most enthusiastic admirers of the 
captain,’’ and his face brightened at once when he saw Mc- 
Leod come in. 

“How did the match go yesterday, sir?” he said, 
eagerly. 

McLeod drew a chair up to the bed, and gave a few 
words of description to the regimental football match of the 
day before. 

“ But that is not what I came to talk about, sergeant,” 
he said. “ I am awfully sorry to hear you are worse. What 
is the meaning of it? I thought you were getting on flrst- 
rate.” 

“ So I was, sir, but there’s somewhat gone wrong in the 
arm — I don’t rightly mind what Dr. Adams calls it. But 
he says it must come off.” 

“ Yes,” said McLeod, gravely; “ and don’t you think 
it is very foolish of you not to consent, when he tells you 
it is the only way to save your life? ” 

The man hesitated for some time before he answered, 
moving his hot face restlessly upon the pillow. He was 
very anxious to make his captain understand exactly how 
the proposal looked to him. 

“ It’s this way, sir. If I let my arm go and get cured, 
what’s to become of me? They won’t have me back in the 
army again. I’m a carpenter by trade, and what could I do 
at that without a right arm? There would be nothing for 
me but the workhouse when I got home, and, indeed, I’d 
sooner die with the arm on me. I don’t like to go against 
what you think right, sir, and I won’t, but that’s how I look 
at it.” 

McLeod listened gravely and thoughtfully. 

“ There is a great deal in what you say. But you have 
friends, haven’t you?” 

“ That I have, sir — an old mother, who’ll be heart- 
broken over this, and there’s a girl I was to have married 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


235 


when my time was out. But I am not going home to sit 
down and let them work for me.” 

Upon my word, I can’t help thinking you’re right,” 
said McLeod; though I daresay we are both wrong, Mal- 
colm. I don’t see how you could go home and sit down 
upon your mother.” 

“I knew you would understand, sir,” said the young 
fellow, eagerly; the others all talk to me about its being 
my duty to keep my life, and they said you would, too. 
But I knew you’d understand. I said: ^ If the capt’n thinks 
it right, you may take my arm when you like; but if he 
don’t, my arm and I take our chance together.’ ” 

But I should have hardly liked to speak out if I hadn’t 
something to propose,” said McLeod. “ Look here, Mal- 
colm, I want you to let your arm go, and I’ll make it all 
right for you; I swear I will. I’ll start you in whatever 
line you like, and see that you keep afloat. You can trust 
my word, can’t you? ” 

Oh, sir ” 

You needn’t he grateful. It’s only a pension for 
wounds on active service,” said McLeod, laughing. ^^It 
was in my service you went up that ladder. \Yill your young 
woman have you without an arm? ” 

That she will, sir! ” said Malcolm, with great de- 
cision. 

McLeod laughed again. 

I am sure I am very thankful to you, sir,” Malcolm 
began, with an effort at enthusiasm. He had stolidly and 
obstinately made up his mind to keep his arm, with a cer- 
tain doubt of the doctors to encourage him, and this sudden 
reversal did not give him entire pleasure. He looked upon 
losing an arm with all the special horror of his class, and 
had secretly hoped to keep both his arm and his life. 

But whatever the Captain desired should he done — 
that, amid all the fever and confusion and pain in his mind, 
stood out quite clear and distinct. 

Only he would just as soon have taken his chance. 

“ It would have been suicide, you know, Malcolm. 
Hasn’t the priest told you how wrong that is?” said Mc- 
Leod, with an odd look of curiosity at him. 

Sergeant Malcolm unhesitatingly made a distinction. 


236 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


I don’t rightly see that, sir. It wasn’t taking my own 
life, hut trying to keep the limbs that it was God’s will to 
give me.” 

McLeod did not argue the point. He got up and said 
good-by. 

Is there anything I can send you, Malcolm? ” 
Nothing just now, thank you, sir; but I would like 
to know when they will take my arm.” , 

Think of that young woman of yours, and that will 
keep you up to the point,” said McLeod, and the young 
man’s eyes brightened. 

I won’t forget my promise, Malcolm. I will arrange 
something for you at once, in case — well, in case anything 
should happen to me — one never knows.” 

McLeod had got into a morbid way of viewing every- 
thing with relation to himself, which was quite unnatural 
to him. 

As he rode back to barracks he thought a good deal 
about Sergeant Malcolm. Was it courage or stolidity that 
had made him so ready to face death? If McLeod had been 
in his place, he thought he would not have been willing 
to give in so easily. He would have let his arm go, and man- 
aged to make a living for himself somehow. 

But that was all very easy to say; he was not facing his 
own trouble so bravely. 

But if he had had a girl at home waiting for him? 

How that young fellow’s eyes had lighted up when he 
spoke of her! With what confidence he had said, That 
she will! ” 

If there had been somebody like that for him, McLeod 
almost felt as if he could have conquered fate. 

What would it have been like to feel that he was riding 
home to be warmly welcomed by a woman who loved him, 
to whom he and his pleasures and troubles meant the whole 
world? he thought, as he rode through the gate into Valetta 
in the dusk. 

.Supposing he could turn down the Strada Mezzodi — 
just supposing — and go into a brightly lighted room, with 
some one like — well, perhaps with brown eyes, fair hair, 
and a soft voice like Mrs. Stoddart? 

He had shut himself out voluntarily from home life — 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


237 

had he been a Quixotic fool to do so? Would it have saved 
him? 

With an undefined impulse, he turned his pony into the 
Strada Mezzodi, and rode slowly past the Stoddarts’ win- 
dows. There was light shining out through the closed shut- 
ters of the drawing room. 

McLeod looked up, with eyes that could see into the 
room be3^ond, and he saw himself there, the centre of a 
home of his own. It was all quite vivid and real to him. 

Then he cursed himself for a fool, and turned and rode 
back into the darkness. 


CHAPTER XX. 

haven’t seen you for an age,” said Lady Eva 
Wrench, in her most friendly tone. I am sorry to hear 
you are leaving Malta almost immediately.” 

^^Xext Sunday,” said Christina. 

^^You see,” George put in, blandly, ^^the Dauntless 
leaves for home on Monday, Lady Eva, and I don’t think 
it would be pleasant for a lady to remain in Malta without 
a gentleman to look after her.” 

Christina seemed to have been hearing these three re- 
marks over and over again all afternoon. Everybody asked 
her when she was leaving, and expressed regret; she always 
gave the date with a sinking heart, and George added a 
complacent little explanation. 

Lady Eva varied the usual order of things a little by 
expressing a wish that Christina would come to Morrell’s, 
stay three weeks longer, and go home with them. There 
would be the Easter races and shooting for the Pembroke 
cup, and quite a number of ship dances. 

Christina drew a long breath at the impossible, delight- 
ful idea of three free weeks, but she knew it was impossible. 

Then Lady Eva was absorbed by half a dozen men, and 
somebody else came up and asked Christina when she was 
leaving Malta. 

It was a very hot April day. There was hardly any- 


238 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


thing worth calling a breeze, even down at the Marsa, where 
a Gymkhana had collected everybody from Valetta. Brown 
holland and white duck were the order of the day among 
the dwindled groups of ladies who still remained in Malta. 

The tourist season was almost over, and the women- 
kind still remaining were waiting, said ill-natured club gos- 
sip, to go home with the officers on first leave, help to crowd 
the ships, and generally make nuisances of themselves. 

Mr. White had been sent off to the Levant, and his Avife 
and daughter had gone home, much against their will. 
The Buskins were remaining till May, by Gerty’s com- 
mands, and she was more paramount than usual now, if 
that were possible, by reason of her troubles. The Wrenches 
had not gone, either; report said that they only intended 
to leave Malta in time for Lady Eva’s marriage in June, 
as a London season just then presented for them insuper- 
able difficulties of a financial nature. 

Good-hys were in the air; everybody was asking every- 
body else when they were going home, and people who knew 
each other were arranging to travel in the same ship or to 
meet again in England. 

But Christina’s good-bys were, she said to herself, as 
final as if she had been going to heaven instead of to Man- 
chester, which Avas equivalent only in the sense of being 
totally out of the range of society ideas. 

Her last fortnight had gone Avith dismaying quickness. 
She had Avanted to get the utmost possible pleasure out of 
it as her last, hut the Fates had seemed to conspire against 
this — helped, indeed, by the very feverishness of her desire 
not to Avaste the days. 

George and she had both counted the hours with very 
different feelings, and ahvays he had been glued to her 
side. 

This Avas Thursday, and on Sunday the P. and 0. 
Khedive was to carry her aAvay from Malta. Not one of 
these people Avould miss her next race meeting. They 
Avould say, as she had heard them say about other people: 
^^Mrs, Stoddart not here to-day? I fancy they have 
left. I suppose we ought to have called to say good-hy, 
but really ” 

Then they Avould begin to talk of something else, and 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


239 


she would have vanished away from the lives of all people 
she had ever known — to Manchester. 

Darling/’ said George, this is jolly, isn’t it? Don’t 
forget, we are to have all the afternoon to ourselves. Don’t 
you feel a little hit sorry, old child, to think that this day 
next week we shan’t be together? ” 

Here was the only person in the world to whom appar- 
ently she was of any consequence. 

Christina was looking very cool and very smart in a 
white duck skirt and coat, with a pale blue silk shirt and 
a blue ribbon on her sailor hat. She did not feel cheerful, 
but nobody could have guessed it, and she looked up at 
George with a grateful smile. 

He was in light clothes, too, and he had exchanged his 
waistcoat for a cummerband, but, all the same, he was very 
hot. Great beads of perspiration stood out upon his heated, 
clean-shaven face, and he wiped them away at intervals 
with his handkerchief. The programme he was holding 
had a damp, dirty mark where his fingers had touched it. 

And McLeod had just passed on his way to the paddock, 
looking so thoroughly cool in white racing kit, and paus- 
ing for a moment to take her hand in a cool, firm clasp. 

He was riding in the polo scurry and in the tandem race, 
and in the dog race he was running a couple of dogs. Of 
course he was busy, and equally of course he did not know 
for certain when Christina was leaving. 

But, all the same, even if he had not time to talk to her 
as usual, it did seem a little odd that Lady Buskin and 
Gerty were to nominate his dogs; that in the tie race his 
tie was Gerty’s charge, and that he had asked her to do 
nothing. 

And yet for his sake she was coldly looked upon by 
many of the ladies in Malta, for his sake Lady Buskin had 
greeted her with a stiff and embarrassed bow, and for his 
sake George was creating himself a very dragon of chap- 
eronage. 

What waste it was! After this day it was more than 
likely that she and McLeod would never meet again, and 
they might as well have made the most of it. Had she not 
made one single friend during all those long months at 
Malta? 


240 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


Even Gerty, who had once had such an enthusiastic ad- 
miration for her, was now so engrossed with her own trou- 
bles that she was entirely apathetic over Christina’s de- 
parture. And if Gerty only knew it, it was a thousand times 
easier to live without a man one was in love with than to 
live with a man one could not endure — at least, so Chris- 
tina thought. 

It was an afternoon which would have convinced any- 
body of unimportance as a unit in the world, and she felt 
that her vanity had been duly chastened, and went home 
readily after the dog race, noting the experience in her mind 
with a view to future stories. 

For McLeod allowance must he made always. 

^Yas he to disappear out of her life and should she never 
know the end? 

The next day Christina had a great surprise. 

She had had a busy morning. She had had an interview 
with the owner of the flat, and then she and Caroline had 
begun to make arrangements for a general packing, and 
George’s servant had come over from the Dauntless to be 
under her orders. 

She had seized a moment to write a line to McLeod, 
giving him the address of her mother-in-law in Manchester, 
and asking him to arrange that all communications about 
her stories should be sent there in future. She did not see 
that anything else could be done, and if George found out, 
it coiild not be helped. 

She was just hesitating over asking McLeod to call and 
say good-by, which seemed natural and civil, when George 
came in, banging the hall door after him and flinging down 
his cap and stick in a fashion which did not argue good 
temper. 

He began to call Christina impatiently almost before 
he got into the flat, and he was hot, dishevelled, and breath- 
less. 

Here’s a damned mess, Kitty! ” he exclaimed, in his 
loudest voice. I am sure I told you a hundred times if 
I told you once not to put off seeing about your passage. 
And now they tell me at the office they have had a wire 
from Port Smd to say there are only four ladies’ berths left 
on the Khedive, and they can’t give you one.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


241 


Do you mean to say that I can’t leave Malta on Sun- 
day? ” 

I don’t know what under heaven to do. I went round 
to the Clan Line office, hut this week they only expect one 
of their small steamers, with no stewardess and no accom- 
modation for ladies, and the Moss Line don’t expect a ship 
for a fortnight. It is most damnably Upsetting, and it 
would have been all right if you’d only gone to the office 
when I told you.” 

I am very sorry.” 

What is the good of saying that, I should like to know ? 
Dearest old girl, I don’t know what I am saying, I am so 
put out. What on earth shall we do ? ” 

I suppose,” said Christina, very slowly, I shall have 
to wait a week.” 

Unconsciously she had been crumpling up her letter to 
McLeod as she spoke, and it was now reduced to an untidy 
hall of paper. 

Was an extra free week such a relief as to make the 
whole world look different? 

Perhaps this week was all she would have in exchange 
for the years she had hoped for, hut Christina could not 
think of that now. She could think of nothing hut the 
immediate prospect of freedom and happiness. 

If George were to come to her later, and tell her he had 
succeeded in arranging her passage, she felt that she could 
not bear it, that she must then and there break free from 
him. 

But he did not. He raged and stormed and swore, hut 
nothing could he done. For another week Christina was 
fixed in Malta without him. 

He suffered a misery of jealousy. His one hope and 
desire had been to get his wife out of Malta before he must 
leave it himself. He knew, he felt, though he did not admit 
it to himself, that his hold upon her was strangely slight, 
that she was his own, and yet not his own in class or affec- 
tion or thought. He was the last man in the world to con- 
ceal his feelings, and Christina felt filled with self-reproach 
that she could not prevent her own from rising hourly 
higher. 

It did seem hard on George. He went about with a long, 


242 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


miserable face, following her from room to room as she 
packed, and proving decidedly in the way. He summoned 
her in haste from a half-filled portmanteau to assure him 
that she would not forget him; he caught her hands when 
she was sewing up a chair in a canvas cover, and nearly de- 
stroyed himself with the packing needle, and at all times 
and seasons he called upon her to say that she would miss 
him. 

Christina perjured herself freely and unhesitatingly, 
hut was regretfully conscious that he was not entirely con- 
vinced by her words — that he had a glimmering of the 
truth. 

She wondered would everything have been different, 
would she have been able to overlook everything, if George 
had felt to her when she first came out as he felt now. Now 
it was too late. 

She conscientiously made every effort to feel miserable. 
She devoted herself to him, and said Not at home to 
everybody, including McLeod, who called on Friday, and 
she was entirely at George’s service. 

But, all the same, she counted the hours till Monday. 
Then she would have ten whole days before her during 
which there would be no possibility of seeing George, and 
nearly a week — Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, 
and Saturday — alone in Malta. 

The time w^as not very far off when she would have 
given everything in the world to have had that hoped-for 
week blotted out of her life. 


BOOK IlL 


CHAPTER I. 

With the first movement from the engines of the great 
ship, the sound of many bands struck on the hot air, and 
there came a cheer from the shore, answered and re-echoed 
from ship to ship. 

The Dauntless swung slowly round from her moorings, 
leaving a white track behind her, and the cheering broke 
out again and again, half drowning the bands. She was 
decorated gaily with flags, her yards were lined with white- 
clad sailors, and there was a certain joyful, methodical 
hustle on her decks: for she was going home. 

Christina, sitting in an archway on the Barraca, and 
making a little solitude for herself with her sunshade, 
watched the slow motion of the ship through the sunny 
water with an unexpected feeling of forlornness. 

She could not distinguish George with any certainty 
among the many figures that crowded the deck, hut she 
waved her handkerchief persistently, on the chance that he 
might see her and he pleased. 

Poor George! how terribly he had felt saying good-hy, 
and up to this last moment how madly, irrationally cheerful 
she had felt! 

How, as the Dauntless grew gradually smaller and 
smaller and nearer to the mouth of the harbour, she be- 
came conscious of a satisfactory sense of depression, grow- 
ing and increasing till she knew that tears were not very far 
from her eyes. If George could only have known! 

She sat still, approvingly encouraging an increasing 
melancholy as the ship grew farther away; she was aware 
. 243 


244 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


of a limp dejection about her whole figure, which would 
have been eminently creditable to any wife who was only 
to be separated from her husband for a few weeks. 

The last sounds of the band died away, and the spec- 
tators on the Barraca turned homewards. Christina waited 
till they had all gone; then she walked back by herself, 
avoiding various acquaintances — back to the deserted fiat, 
where everything that George had not taken with him was 
packed up to be sent to Cook’s, and stored there. 

There was no reason in the world why she should not 
have gone straight to the hotel, instead of coming back to 
the fiat, but this plant of grief was a tender plant, and re- 
quired every possible cultivation. Christina was very hon- 
est, as a rule, and given to despise all false sentiment; her 
writing had given her a habit of analyzing her own feelings 
and sensations as well as those of other people; but to-day 
was an exceptional day. 

She sat down upon an empty, hired bedstead, and con- 
sidered herself with decided satisfaction. 

She would write to George at once, and he should have 
a letter to meet him in England; she would make of her 
own accord the promise, which he had hesitated so long 
about asking for, and which she had then carelessly put 
aside, that she would go nowhere, now that he was not there 
to go with her; she would devote herself to her writing — 
though, indeed, there was not much use in that, for to all 
appearance no publisher was ever going to accept anything 
of hers again. 

It is impossible to say to what depths of depression she 
might have attained, had not Lady Eva AYrench and her 
brother just then made an unceremonious entrance. Lady 
Eva would not have hesitated to disturb a mourner over 
the grave of his nearest and dearest, had it occurred to het 
to desire his services or society, and she had certainly no 
hesitation with Christina, who, however oddly she might 
choose to conduct herself, could not, in Lady Eva’s opin- 
ion, feel anything but relief. 

She sauntered into the fiat. Lord Francis a little in the 
background, with an absolute confidence that she must 
always be w^elcome, and that, if she wasn’t, it was all the 
same to her. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


245 


Yon must excuse us/’ she said, for coming in with- 
out knocking, but the door was open, and a couple of men 
were coming out with a packing box, and when it comes to 
that I don’t consider a place private property any longer.” 

Don’t you ? ” said Christina, resentfully. 

“Mo, I don’t. You mustn’t stay here; I see it is put- 
ting you into the blues. Besides, I don’t know any more 
melancholy way of beginning the day than going to watch 
a ship leave the harbour; it gives me the same sort of feel- 
ing as going to a funeral or a wedding, whether you know 
the people or not.” 

Christina flushed a little; was it for Lady Eva to show 
her that she was giving way to sentiment and not to sor- 
row? 

“ I assure you,” said Lady Eva, “ I was on the Barraca 
quite by accident when the Polyphemus was going out, 
and, though I didn’t know a soul on board, when the hands 
began to play and the cheering was going on, and people 
were waving good-hys, positively I found myself ready to 
cry! So, as I don’t cultivate sentimental emotions, I have 
never gone to see a ship start again.” 

Christina found herself brightening unwillingly. If 
all the rest of her life was to he George^Sj and she had only 
this short time for herself, why should she waste it? She 
was ashamed to find she was reminding herself that she 
had made him no promise. 

“ I have got a note for you from a friend of yours I met 
just now in the street,” Lady Eva went on. 

To her disguest, Christina felt herself colouring up to 
the roots of her hair. It was absurd — a result of the half- 
impertinent scrutiny of both the Wrenches. 

“ It is a note from Captain McLeod,” she said, with 
indignant carelessness, and, to show of how very little im- 
portance it was, she broke it open at once. Then for a mo- 
ment she forgot the Wrenches, she forgot McLeod, she for- 
got everything except the news in the few words of Mc- 
Leod’s note. 

“ Dear Mrs. Stoddart,” he' wrote, “ I am delighted to 
say that I have capital news for you about two of your 
stories. I inclose you the editors’ letters. They don’t offer 


246 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


fortune as yet, but I don’t suppose you mind that; and 
Longmans’, at any rate, is a good magazine. I am writing 
this note in case I miss you when I call, and I hope you will 
send me a line to say when you are leaving Malta. With 
best wishes and congratulations. 

Yours very truly, 

Andrew McLeod.” 

Christina did not even try to restrain the sudden joy 
which flashed into her eyes, but a moment later she became 
indignantly uncomfortable with the knowledge that it 
would undoubtedly be wrongly interpreted. 

She would have liked to hold out the note to Lady Eva, 
and let her see how completely formal and ceremonious it 
was — she even thought of doing so for a moment, but she 
could not make up her mind to allow her secret to become 
common property so suddenly. 

Let them think what they liked; she at least knew that 
it was the news in McLeod’s letter, and not anything per- 
sonal to him that made her happy. Then a sudden fear 
came to her — was she in any way deceiving herself again? 

A very pleasant man Captain McLeod is,” said Lady 
Eva, casually — when he chooses, that is to say. I want 
Francis to ask him to dine some day this week. Do you 
think he will come? ” 

Christina had a way of taking everything that happened 
to her as enthusiastically as if it were the most important 
event of her life; she lived largely in the present, and wasted 
her emotions recklessly and without sense of proportion. 

This week, after several days of expectation, had begun 
in a curious indifference, but now her spirits had suddenly 
risen, and the prospect of making the most of every hour 
and every minute filled her mind once more. She had only 
one life, and every hour she wasted was a clear loss, never 
to be made up — and she had wasted so many for George’s 
sake. 

She did not write to him that day. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


247 


CHAPTER II. 

I AM awfully glad to see you,” said Mr. Seton-Kerr, 
warmly. 

He stood on the steps of St. Angelo Fort in the moon- 
light, and welcomed the two boatloads of men and ladies 
with much effusion. 

He was a cheerful youth, and had found his captain 
rather depressing company of late, and he was still young 
enough not to dislike being routed out after his dinner. 

“ We have come as a surprise party,” said Lady Eva, 
who generally took the lead, whether her sister-in-law was 
there or not. 

Christina was feeling rather uncomfortable and said 
nothing. 

It was one thing to go for a moonlight row in the Grand 
Harbour, and quite another to end by an impromptu visit 
to Fort St. Angelo. 

But her moral courage, unsupported by her wishes, had 
not risen to more than a faint remonstrance. Lady Francis 
Wrench was older and presumably wiser than she was, and 
Christina would not admit to herself that there was any 
special objection to her paying a visit to the fort. 

“ I don’t know whether Bones will show, or whether 
there will be anything to eat, though I can promise you lots 
of fizz,” said Mr. Seton-Kerr, cheerfully. 

We have brought our own supper, thanks,” said Lady 
Francis; buffoon don’t mean to say Captain McLeod will 
be so rude as not to appear? We must rout him up if he 
doesn’t, and teach him better manners.” 

To tell you the truth, he’s been the worst of com- 
pany lately,” said Mr. Seton-Kerr, confidentially, and 
that’s rather rough luck when he and I are boxed up here 
tete-d-iete. He used to be a fellow that nothing put out, 
but now he gets into a blue fury over nothing at all, and if 
I hadn’t, as I see you are about to remark. Lady Eva, the 
temper of an angel ” 

Talking of angels,” said Lady Eva, abruptly, do 
these steps reach to heaven, Mr. Seton-Kerr, for they seem 
to go on for ever? ” 


248 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Christina was quite aware that the conversation had 
received this sudden turn quite as much in consequence of 
her presence as because Lady Eva, who hated climbing, 
found the innumerable steps rather monotonous. 

Mr. Seton-Kerr made himself very witty on the sub- 
ject of lifts, and dropped his remarks upon his captain’s 
oddities, and Christina, who considered him rather an ob- 
jectionable youth, fell behind with Lord Francis, whom she 
liked. 

If George could see her now! — but he could not; he 
would never know, and why should she not amuse her- 
self? 

At least she must see McLeod. If he did not come, she 
must send him a message by Mr. Seton-Kerr. It would be 
only civil — only right, after all the trouble he had taken 
about her stories. 

But McLeod was too instinctively courteous to shirk 
his duty as host, unwelcome as this noisy party of self- 
invited guests might be. 

He joined them in the messroom, rather pale and grave, 
but politely anxious to be hospitable. 

Christina had not seen him for more than ten days, 
and she had a great deal to say to him — a number of little 
stories to tell him, which he would find amusing; especially 
there were those acceptances of hers to talk about. But 
there would certainly be an opportunity to discuss every- 
thing later on, and at present she was quite content to 
amuse herself with the rest of the supper party. 

McLeod looked very ill; he went over to Lady Eva and 
talked to her, but with an unusually obvious effort, and he 
lost the thread of what he was saying once or twice. 

The Wrenches had brought their own supper, and all 
that Fort St. Angelo had to provide was champagne, which 
was liberally produced and largely appreciated. 

Everybody was very festive; they played tiddliwinks 
with sixpences and wineglasses till Lady Eva made quite 
a small fortune. Then almost everybody had a trick of 
some kind to exhibit, connected more or less remotely with 
wineglasses and forks and coins. After they were tired of 
this, they went out on the ramparts and played tennis in 
the moonlight. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


249 


Here McLeod and Christina were alone for the first time, 
in the shadow of a gun. 

Everybody had come there at first to see the Grand 
Harbour and Valetta, silver with moonlight, but only these 
two remained when the others trooped off to the tennis 
court with much laughter and noise. 

McLeod had not looked down with the rest; he said 
something about being made giddy, and had stood all the 
time as he stood now, with his back to the parapet; but he 
looked vaguely in front of him, and not at Christina. 

I have to thank you,’’ she said, with some hesitation. 

She had long ago made up her mind that allowances 
must always be made for McLeod; but, all the same, she 
could not forget that he had suddenly ceased to seek her 
society, and this evening his manner was of the coldest and 
most indifferent. 

“ Thank me ? ” he said, vaguely. “ Oh, I remember — 
yes.” 

Christina turned on him rather sharply. What is the 
matter with you? ” she said; you look half asleep.” 

Well, I haven’t been to sleep, for a long time — at least 
I think so,” said McLeod. 

Accidentally he moved a little out of the shadow of the 
gun as he spoke, and, as the moonlight fell on his face, 
everything but a great pity faded out of Christina’s mind. 

“ Can’t you sleep? I am so sorry,” she said. 

I daresay, if I had that play off my mind ” said 

McLeod, drawing his brows together in a troubled frown. 

WJiatf ” 

I hate to fail,” said McLeod. He had been speaking 
straight before him into the distance until now, and Chris- 
tina had had some difficulty in hearing what he said; but 
now he turned to her and spoke more naturally. 

^^Look here, Mrs. Stoddart; when that play came to 
smash, I thought there was just an end of it, but I know 
there isn’t now. I have been a dead failure all my life, but 
I have got hold of a plot of my own now — ^it is a very good 
plot, I think, and will work. But there’s something needed. 
Something needed, certainly.” 

Oh, do tell me about it! ” said Christina, eagerly. 

^MVould you like to know? Well, come to my rooms 


250 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


and I’ll show you, and explain to you what is needed, 
too.” 

“ But how can I ? ” Christina indicated the others with 
a gesture. 

That’s all right. They’ll he coming later — we’ll ask 
them, if you like,” said McLeod. 

He had never made a selfish request before, hut now 
what he was asking was decidedly selfish. 

But Christina would not refuse. They exchanged a few 
words with the others; McLeod told them he was going 
to take Mrs. Stoddart to explore the fort, and after a few 
sarcastic pleasantries they promised to follow in a few min- 
utes. 

They did not explore the fort at all — they went straight 
to McLeod’s room. 

He had a big, hare-looking sitting room off a smaller 
bedroom, both characteristically furnished with more regard 
to comfort than appearance. 

He drew the curtains over the windows, blotting out 
the moonlight; he turned up the lamp and lighted the can- 
dles on the chimney board. 

His undress uniform was lying in an untidy heap on a 
sofa, where he had left it when he was dressing for dinner. 
He pushed it aside, and came over to Christina, who was 
inspecting the photographs on the chimney hoard. 

My mother,” said McLeod; “ two of my married sis- 
ters; the eldest of those two in fancy dress, with a friend, 
of hers; a group of the regiment we had taken not long 
ago ” he paused. 

Christina’s eyes lingered longest on the picture of Lady 
Drumesk, with her worn face and the shadow of a great 
fear in her eyes, which the photograph somehow managed 
to bring out. What a terrible life she must have had to 
bring that look into her face! 

Then, glancing over the others, she came to the photo- 
graph of a handsome man in the uniform of the 79th, 
and, without waiting to think, gave a look of inquiry to 
McLeod. 

Beresford,” he said, briefly. 

It was a very good photograph. Beresford was half sit- 
ting, half leaning on a table, bending a little forward, with 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


251 


a smile which had not degenerated into a smirk, and life 
and energy in every line of his face and figure. 

“ That was taken a week before ” said McLeod; 

he had been three weeks dead when the proofs came in.” 

It must have been a strange thing, and very, very sad, 
Christina thought, to open those pictures of the dead man 
for the first time. 

How that girl must have loved him! She turned away 
abruptly, with an instinct of escaping from those happy, 
careless eyes. 

But McLeod, who had the photograph before him al- 
ways, did not seem to be freshly impressed. 

He pulled up his long chair for Christina, and made her 
sit in it and draw herself hack till her feet were off the 
ground, and she lay snugly among the cushions. 

“ But the play? ” she said. 

McLeod’s mood had changed. Never mind that,” he 
said. Are you comfortable ? Take off your hat.” 

For this one evening she and he seemed beyond the 
reach of conventionalities, shut away from the rest of the 
world by the four walls of his room. 

Christina obeyed, by instinct ruffling up her hair that it 
might not lie unbecomingly fiat. 

“Are you perfectly comfortable?” he said again. “I 
wish you had some work or something, because ” 

There was a long silence. McLeod stood looking at her 
in a strange, intent way, which made her uncomfortable 
at once. It was not the gaze of a lover upon the woman 
he loved; more of a man who saw before him a bit of ribbon 
or lock of hair or like token of one he had lost for this life 
and the next. 

There was a passion of regret and realization of what 
might have been in his eyes. But Christina did not even 
feel sure that he was thinking consciously of her. 

It brought her real physical discomfort, and therewith 
came a sense of awkwardness. She had no natural leaning 
to disregard conventionalities, and a distinct desire to he 
thought well of by all the world. 

But she did not like to speak first; she fidgeted uncom- 
fortably beneath McLeod’s look, and at last he broke the 
silence. 


252 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


What do we look like? ” he said. 

It seemed to her as if a spell had been removed. She 
altered her position, and answered promptly and even 
cheerfully. 

Like very lazy people, I should say. Let us go and 
look for the others.^^ 

I don’t mean that,” said McLeod, impatiently; what 
I mean is, don’t you think we look as if we belonged to each 
other? Can’t you imagine it for a minute? I have almost 
brought myself to believe — if you had sat still as you were 
a few moments longer, I should have quite succeeded — that 
you are my wife, and that nobody exists in the world but 
we two. It’s late, you know — past eleven — and here we 
are, entirely by ourselves, with the lamps lighted ” 

He moved his position a little and let his hand rest on 
hers. 

^^All these efforts of imagination remind me that I 
shouldn’t be here,” said Christina, speaking cheerfully. 

It was impossible to get out of this chair gracefully; 
she proceeded to try and wriggle towards the ground in a 
manner which seemed inappropriate to the circumstances. 
She was decidedly frightened. Was it possible that McLeod 
was going to subject her to the stupid insult of love-making? 
She would not even give grounds to such a suspicion in her 
own mind by removing her hand from his with any haste. 

She was entirely in the power of a man who, upon his 
own confession, was not always responsible for his actions. 
She had often been alone with him before, hut never had 
she felt herself so entirely at his mercy. 

But McLeod was scarcely thinking of her personally — 
more as a realization of home and happiness, of everything 
he had missed. 

“ You are not afraid of me, surely? ” he said. I sup- 
pose I am rather a brute to talk like this, and you will think 
I am always trading on my privileges as a mortally hurt 
man. But, don’t you see, I am thinking of you more as a 
— woman. By Jove! when you have nothing else left, it 
must be a comfort to have some one to fall back on.” 

He looked at Christina curiously, and she felt that she 
ought to say something; hut, though many thoughts came 
to her, none of them would get themselves said. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


253 


Sit down again for a minnte or two, won’t yon? ” said 
McLeod, and try and look as if you were at home. I am 
not such a swine as you seem to think, and I make no mis- 
takes about why you are so kind to me.” 

Christina sat down again; a few minutes more could 
not make much difference, and he did not want her to talk. 

But she was glad when they heard the steps of the rest 
of the party. She rose from her seat, to put on her hat 
hastily at the glass, and then, as McLeod remained absently 
sitting where he was, she felt that it might have been better 
if she had done the same. 

The others came in in mad spirits, with many quips and 
cranks among themselves. Christina felt that she and Mc- 
Leod stood apart, and he was almost silent. 

You two look fairly comfortable,” said Lady Francis 
Wrench, with a sneer in her voice. I am sorry we dis- 
turbed you, hut we really didn’t know you were here.” 

“ Have you anything interesting to show us. Captain 
McLeod? ” said Lady Eva — not Egyptian things, though, 
for goodness’ sake! Mr. Seton-Kerr says you have a lot, 
and I am so sick of looking at them.” 

“ There are those Edinburgh photos and your racing 
and football cups,” Seton-Kerr suggested; “ and I say, 
Bones, what have you done with those Japanese knives? 
They were smart things in the murdering line.” 

I — don’t know,” said McLeod. I am not quite 
sure.” 

You are not quite sure? Well, I am sure I hope no 
dirty Maltee has got hold of them, or we may get our throats 
cut some fine night by way of experiment. I assure you. 
Lady Eva, they look as if they would do the job so clean — 
no blundering or dirty work — they almost call to you to try 
them! ” Mr. Seton-Kerr ended, jovially. 

Perhaps I thought it would he safer to put them out 
of your way,” McLeod returned. He carefully avoided 
looking towards Christina. 

Then Lady Eva disclaimed any desire to see the knives, 
and, after a little more light and improving conversation, 
it dawned upon Lady Francis that it was time to go, and 
they all went down the steps of the fort together. 

On the way, McLeod drew Christina aside. The ani- 
17 


254 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


mation had all died out of his face, and the puzzled, con- 
fused look which had been there at the beginning of the 
evening had come hack. 

Before you go,” he said, confidentially, I want to 
tell you the plot of my play — that is to say, if you yould like 
to know it ? ” 

“ Of course I should,” said Christina, readily. 

‘^Well, I thought of this,” said McLeod; 1 thought 
of a man who looked all right to everybody, but who was 
really going — mad, and hiew it himself. Every day, you 
see, he would know it was drawing a little nearer, and at 
last ” 

In his earnestness, he laid his hand lightly on Chris- 
tina’s arm to draw her attention, and instinctively she drew 
hack with a half-stified exclamation. 

Oh, how can you talk like that! ” she said. 

“Do you think it would he too painful?” he said, 
anxiously; “ but there would he strong scenes, especially 
at the end, hut I am not quite sure about that. I think 
Grant would he the best person perhaps ” 

He came to a long meditative pause, which lasted till 
they reached the quay. 

Christina was too bewildered and disturbed to speak. 
What did McLeod mean? Was it only a ghastly kind of 
joke? But he seemed so entirely serious and matter-of-fact 
over it. 


CHAPTER III. 

Christina dreamed about McLeod that night, and 
could not get him out of her head all next morning. He 
came between her and the last and most hopeful child of 
her imagination, and refused to he dismissed, even tem- 
porarily. 

There had been very little said about him the night 
before, though the rest of the party had been freely dis- 
cussed, and Christina was indignantly conscious that the 
silence was a tribute to her presence. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


255 


But why should she not speak of Captain McLeod as 
freely as afnyhody else? 

To prove that she could and would, she made some 
casual and indifferent allusion to him, and Lady Eva fol- 
lowed it up. 

I like Captain McLeod,” she said; “ he’s always so 
entirely calm and collected; he talks when he likes, and 
when he doesn’t feel in the humour, he’s not disturbed by 
a social conscience like other less fortunate mortals.” 

I must say I think he might have gone a little more 
out of his way to he civil this evening,” said Lady Francis, 
sharply. 

He didn’t want us, and though he was too polite to 
say so, he had no objection to letting us see it. Wasn’t that 
it, Mrs. Stoddart? ” said Lady Eva. 

Christina restrained herself from making any apology 
for him with difficulty. 

I don’t know, I am sure,” she said, shortly. 

Apparently these people had noticed no difference in 
McLeod. Could it have been her imagination that his man- 
ner was peculiar? 

Once more in her life she felt that responsibility was 
thrown upon her. She and she alone in Malta knew Mc- 
Leod’s secret, and, except in absolute necessity, she had no 
right to betray it. 

She was so sorry, so dreadfully sorry for him, and their 
present position towards each other made her exceptionally 
helpless. 

She honestly tried to anal3^ze her feelings towards him, 
but she knew he was too prominent in her mind for suc- 
cess. A little later, when he had passed out of her life, she 
would be able to judge better. 

She admired him, she liked to he with him, she could 
not either think of him or talk to him at present without 
a certain restless excitement which was not unpleasant. 
But then she would have felt the same to any man in his 
position; how was it possible that she could meet him, 
without a great overwhelming pity and an anxiety amount- 
ing to terror? She was not, she hoped, an absolute fool, 
and in her position and his anything but pity and friendship 
was utterly impossible. 


256 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


But, all the same, Captain McLeod and his troubles 
could not successfully be got out of her head. 

After several vain attempts to engross herself with her 
writing, she got up and put on her hat to go out. 

There was no one now to question her out-goings and 
in-comings. George seemed to have gone clear out of her 
life, leaving nothing behind but a vague sense of relief. 
Was it possible that they had only parted yesterday? 

She tried to interest herself by imagining where he was 
now, and what he was doing, but it was of no use. He was 
only a shadow, into which no life could be put, like one or 
two of Christina’s imaginary friends, who had refused to 
live, and who had therefore been abandoned with their his- 
tories half written. McLeod, on the contrary, who had only 
been intended for a place in the background, seemed in- 
clined to force his way to the position of hero. 

It was very hot in Strada Reale, and wise people had 
got their shopping over and gone home to take life as coolly 
as possible. 

Christina had practically nothing to do; she had 
thought of going up to the Barraca, but was discouraged 
by the prospect of the hot walk before she could get there. 
She had almost made up her mind to take a book and a 
carriage, and drive round to Sliema to what she and McLeod 
called “ the Waves Point,” when she met Campbell unex- 
pectedly, laden with some official-looking blue papers. 

His idea was to salute and pass on; he and Christina 
had never exchanged anything but a bow or a few neces- 
sary words since the fiasco at Florian theatre. 

But Christina was not thinking about that or about 
Campbell personally at all. As he passed her the idea struck 
her that here was perhaps a way of finding out if the time 
had come when it would be absolutely necessary for his 
own sake to betray McLeod’s secret to somebody. 

Mr. Campbell,” she said. 

Campbell turned promptly. 

‘‘Have you seen Captain McLeod lately?” said Chris- 
tina, going to the point without preliminaries. “Don’t 
you think he looks very ill? ” 

Campbell himself looked decidedly ill; he had been 
doing very badly, and consequently the hot weather, which 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


257 


as yet other people found pleasant, was trying him very 
much. As Seton-Kerr said, he was in a fair way to get 
fever, and stop somebody’s first leave. 

I haven’t seen much of McLeod lately,” he said. 
“ You know he and Seton-Kerr are at St. Angelo, and he 
hardly ever comes over.” 

But don’t you think,” said Christina, persistently, 
that he ought to see a doctor — or something? He never 
sleeps, and, if you have seen him at all, I am sure you must 
notice a change ? ” 

She did not mind in the least what Campbell thought 
of her interest; she simply wanted to know if she had in 
any way exaggerated the change in McLeod, or if other peo- 
ple had noticed it too. 

Campbell had turned with her, and they were walking 
slowly down Strada Reale together. 

Seton-Kerr did say something about him this morn- 
ing,” he answered, thoughtfully. He was complaining 
that he won’t stir outside the fort, except on duty, or for 
that matter outside his room, and that he’s the worst of 
company, which isn’t like Bones. But Seton-Kerr is al- 
ways grumbling about something, and I just thought Mc- 
Leod probably didn’t find the young cub very amusing.” 

“ There’s more than that,” said Christina, shaking her 
head. 

“ He did tell me one very tall story,” said Campbell, 
still recollecting. He said a sergeant came to him yes- 
terday in a desperate state and complained that the picket 
ought to have been in Valetta by this time, and instead of 
that they were lost — absolutely lost! And they were even- 
tually discovered locked up in an outbuilding, where they 
declared they had been disposed of by McLeod. Where- 
upon Seton-Kerr went to McLeod in dire perplexity, and 
he seemed inclined to deny it at first, but finally said that 
they had laughed at him behind his hack, and it was the 
only thing to he done. As if every man in the regiment 
wasn’t his devoted admirer! I don’t believe that story, do 
you, Mrs. Stoddart?” 

I hope it’s not true — oh, I hope not! ” said Christina, 
so earnestly that he looked at her in surprise. 

Of course it isn’t,” said Campbell, easily; no sane 


258 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS.^ 


man would take it into his head to lock up a whole picket 
summarily, even if he really thought they were" laughing 
at him. But Seton-Kerr vows it’s true, and says there will 
be a row about it at headquarters.” 

Christina looked at Campbell. No, it was quite impos- 
sible to give this feather-headed, foolish boy her confidence, 
friendly and good-natured as he might be. 

“ He’s coming to dinnner to-night,” she said, half to 
herself. “ I can see then. When does first leave begin, 
Mr. Campbell?” 

Not for another fortnight or three weeks,” said Camp- 
bell. Well, I must say good-hy, as I have got to take these 
papers to the general’s. I shall he awfully sorry if there is 
anything really wrong with Bones, though we are not as 
good friends as we were. He’s a very sound chap, Mrs. 
Stoddart, and a very good chap.” 

Campbell spoke as if he meant what he was saying, and 
for a moment Christina wavered again, hut before she could 
make up her mind he had saluted and left her. 

To her surprise she met McLeod on the steps of Mor- 
rell’s. She had not expected to see him till they met at 
dinner with the Wrenches that evening, and she felt his 
appearance portended a refusal. 

Aren’t you coming to-night? ” she said, hastily. 

No,” said McLeod. I sent over a note this morning. 
But it was not for that I came. I wanted to see you — I went 
to your room ” 

But I am afraid I can’t ask you there,” said Christina, 
colouring a little. “ I have only got a bedroom. Will you 
come upstairs? The Wrenches say I may use their sitting 
room.” 

But she was not sorry when he refused. 

^^Why aren’t you coming this evening?” she said. 
They knew each other so well that it was quite a natural 
question. 

But he did not even answer. 

Do you think I had better go and see Grant now?” 
he said, anxiously, or shall I wait till to-morrow? ” 

Captain Grant? ” said Christina. She was a little sur- 
prised. Do you want to see him? I thought you were 
not even friends.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


259 


I told you/’ said McLeod, impatiently, I am obliged 
to see him because of the play.” 

But are you going to consult him? I shouldn’t have 
thought he was a good person.” 

You don’t understand. It’s for the last scene,” said 
McLeod. 

“ But won’t I do as well? You have helped me so often 
that I should like to be useful.” 

McLeod turned to face her, and gave her a long medi- 
tative look. 

Would you — would you be willing? ” he said, slowly. 
Then he shook his head. No, Grant will be best,” he 
said. 

They were still standing in the hall of the hotel, but 
they were as much alone as they could have been anywhere 
else. It was not a time of day at which anybody who could 
■ help it was moving about. 

Captain McLeod,” said Christina, speaking with a 
sudden purpose, you won’t be offended at what I am going 
, to say, I am sure. You asked me once to tell you if the 
time came when I thought you ought to send in your 
papers without any delay. I think — I think the time has 
come.” 

Sudden tears sprang to her e3^es as she spoke. He was 
such a big, manly fellow, and such a thorough soldier, and 
he had been a good friend to her. 

He did not speak for several minutes, and then his voice 
was angry and puzzled. 

^^What on earth do you mean?” he said. ^^Are you 
going to insult me too? Will you please say what you 
mean ? ” 

Christina looked at him with disconcerted, frightened 
eyes. 

“ You know that I don’t mean to insult you,” she 
said. 

McLeod did not look by any means assured of this. He 
stood pulling at his red moustache after his old habit, and 
he kept his eyes suspiciously fixed upon her. 

It seemed to her that this had been going on for years 
— that for years she and he had been standing facing each 
other in the cool hall at Morrell’s. She was not afraid of 


260 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod, but she was very much afraid of her own words; 
it was so hard to he sure what was the best thing to say. 

I think,, at least,^^ she said, gently, that it would be 
better to give up the idea of that play till you get to Eng- 
land 

“Why?^^ McLeod caught her up with a quickness 
which was quite unnatural to him. 

You would have more time — and better opportuni- 
ties.” 

I don’t know why you can’t speak the truth,” said 
McLeod. You don’t like the subject I have chosen.” 

Honestly, I do not,” said Christina, gravely. She al- 
ways hated standing, and she was getting very tired, but 
she could not allow herself to relax even so far as to lean 
against the wall. 

Why not? ” said McLeod. 

I don’t think,” she said, hesitating a little and choos- 
ing her words and expressions, that for you of all peo- 
ple ” 

He broke in with an exclamation. 

It is just what I expected! ” he said. “ I do believe 
you think I am mad! ” 

For a moment Christina was absolutely staggered; then 
he broke into a laugh — such a strange mirthless laugh, that 
it struck with a cold feeling of certainty even on her un- 
professional ear. 

“ Haven’t you found out in all these months that I was 
joking?” he said. ‘Ht’s very amusing that you should 
believe it! ” 

But he did not look amused; he was looking at Chris- 
tina furtively to see how she took what he was saying. 

Never mind about that, then. I want to know what 
you mean about Mr. Grant. You’ll tell me, won’t you? 
Perhaps I might be able to help you.” 

McLeod shook his head. 

“ No,” he said. “ You will know all about it afterwards, 
and you mightn’t like it. In fact, I am rather sorry it is 
necessary. I daresay people won’t approve.” 

Well, then, won’t you tell me, and we can talk it over 
together?” said Christina, urgently. 

‘‘At anyrate, you won’t turn against me, too?” said 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


2G1 


McLeod, wistfully. Everybody else has. It is terrible 
to feel that every soul in the world hates you — and rather 
hard, isn’t it? ” 

Very hard,” said Christina, but it isn’t true.” 

You don’t know.” 

At anyrate, I shall never hate you,” she said, steadily. 

“ Will you stand by me whatever happens? ” 

Yes,” said Christina, I will.” 

I think I can believe you,” said McLeod, with a long 
doubtful look. 

Of course you can,” said Christina, cheerfully; and 
now I really mustn’t stand here gossipping with you any 
longer.” 

I wish you would tell me one thing before you go,” 
said he, anxiously; it is a perfectly natural question, and 
you need not look at me like that.” 

He drew a little closer to her, and let his voice drop to 
a confidential half whisper. “ Do you know what it is to 
have the same thought whirling round and round in your 
head till you feel as if it must burst? If I could only stop 
thinking for half a minute, it would be all right.” 

What are you always thinking of? ” 

McLeod drew back suspiciously. 

Never mind that,” he said; “ you can’t expect me to 
tell you that! Are you going home next Sunday?” he 
ended, in a completely ordinary tone. 

Whether he had heard a step on the stairs or not Chris- 
tina did not know, but a moment or two later Lady Eva 
Wrench appeared, and he seemed to pull himself together, 
and began to apologize for being obliged to refuse coming 
to dinner at the last minute in the most ordinary tone of 
conventional civility. 

It was no wonder that Lady Eva, who knew him so 
slightly, noticed no difference. 


262 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Christina had barely time to brush her hair and wash 
her hands, and not to change her dress, as she had intended, 
before she was told luncheon was ready. 

The Wrenches were by no means saving of their pennies 
though they were poor, and they liked to have people con- 
stantly coming in and out, especially now that it was get- 
ting hot enough to make it necessary to stay indoors during 
the early part of the afternoon. 

They generally had lunch in a private room, and a few 
men were always invited to come in. To-day they had 
asked Christina, and, as Lady Eva had seen her in excel- 
lent health ten minutes before, there was no possibility of 
an excuse at the last minute, though she was far from feel- 
ing either hungry or sociable. 

She was not a great addition to the luncheon party. 
Lord Francis, beside whom she sat, found her entirely de- 
void of conversation, and Grant, who was one of the party, 
was gratified, and at the same time slightly puzzled, by her 
suddenly developed interest in him. 

Why was it her fate always to be driven to make impor- 
tant decisions on her own responsibility, without any time 
given to her for consideration? 

There were plenty of people, she felt sure, to whom 
right and wrong did not always appear so inextricably 
mixed, and who were not absolutely certain to feel after- 
wards they had done the wrong thing, whatever they de- 
cided. 

For McLeod’s own sake she must surely take some de- 
cided step. He himself would have the right to blame her 
afterwards if she did not. 

She went over the whole thing again and again. Who 
should she tell? How much should she tell? What would 
be the best thing for McLeod? 

There seemed to be something so treacherous in going, 
unknown to him, to betray his confidence. She had prom- 
ised not to turn against him. What would he consider this, 
when he knew? 

She woke up with a start to the fact that Lord Francis 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


263 


had asked her three times whether she would have chicken 
or mutton, and hastily forced herself to make a few irrele- 
vant remarks. 

When one life, perhaps more, depended upon what she 
made up her mind to do that afternoon, how could shfe pre- 
tend to he excited over a shooting match for the Pembroke 
cup, or interested in the rumoured engagement of the gen- 
eral’s aide-de-camp to his cousin? 

What was the right thing to do, and the best thing to 
do, and was it absolutely necessary, that anything should be 
done at all, or that she should do it? There might come a 
day when McLeod could turn upon her and accuse her of 
spoiling his life by her treachery. 

If she could only have asked somebody to advise her! 
But in all Malta there was nobody who could take the 
responsibility off her shoulders. She was sadly amused 
at the instinct which came to her to go to McLeod for 
help. 

She found herself watching all Grant’s movements anx- 
iously. 

When luncheon was over, no matter to whom she was 
talking, her eyes sought him. As long as he stayed where 
he was it was all right; but he could not stay there always 
— in fact, he was certain to leave very soon. And then 
where was he going to? How was he going to spend the 
afternoon? 

She could not invite him to her bedroom; she could not 
insist upon the Wrenches keeping him, even if he would 
stay; and she could scarcely propose herself as his com- 
panion for the rest of the day. 

Even if she did, she would be obliged to draw the line 
at the night. 

Grant moved his chair, and she lost her way in the 
middle of a sentence and forgot what she was talking about. 
As long as she could keep him in sight, she thought she 
need not absolutely make up her mind. 

“ He’s an awful brute, hut he can play polo,” pursued 
Lord Francis. It’s very clever the way he manages to 
make his one eye do the wnrk of two. Of course you have 
noticed that he has only one eye ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly — that is to say, no, never,” said Chris- 


264 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


tina, vaguely. Was he talking of a man or a horse? She 
had not the faintest idea. 

I wish I could get a chance like that; it was a case of 
given away with a pound of tea, and I assure you 

Lord Francis, is Captain Grant going?” Christina 
broke in. 

‘^It looks like it,” said he, a little disconcerted; ^^but 
as for the pony, it was very lucky for McMurdo ” 

I beg your pardon, but I must speak to him,” said 
Christina, rising hastily. 

Her host was a little bewildered; he was not a very ob- 
servant person, but, to the best of his belief, Mrs. Stoddart 
and Captain Grant rarely did more than exchange a word 
when they met. 

Are you going already? ” said Christina, hurriedly. 

Everybody was a little amused. 

‘^Already?” said Grant, laughing. Why, according 
to good manners I ought to have taken myself off an 
hour ago. But it is very kind of you to find the time so 
short! ” 

Where are you going to ? What are you going to do ? ” 
Christina persisted. 

Grant was somewhat astonished and slightly gratified. 
He was conscious that he looked very well in his light sum- 
mer clothes, with a good deal of shirt and a red cummer- 
band. His hair was parted with absolute correctness, his 
moustache was waxed to perfection, and Lady Eva had 
presented him with a buttonhole of Parma violets, which 
made him thankful that he had finally decided on violet 
scent for his handkerchief that morning. He had had a 
chance of seeing himself in a glass as he rose from his chair, 
and was satisfied that he had every right to attract respect- 
ful admiration. But Christina, when she looked at him, 
was not thinking of the beauties of his attire and appear- 
ance, though at one time they had had a sort of doubtful 
attraction for her; she was reflecting how slightly he was 
made, what a want of strength and muscle there was about 
him, and how helpless he would be wdth McLeod. 

Really, you are immensely kind to-day, ]\Irs. Stod- 
dart,” he said, with his most provokingly self-satisfied 
smile. I wish I could ask for the pleasure of your society. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


265 


But I am engaged for the afternoon, and I am going to tea 
at the palace.^’ 

Christina was too much in earnest even to notice the 
impertinence of his tone. She had more to consider Just 
now than what people might think of her, and she went 
on to her next question with barely a hesitation. 

You are not going over to St. Angelo? ” she said. 

Grant’s face fell a little. It was annoying to think that, 
after all, this anxiety was not for him, hut for his services 
as messenger. I didn’t intend to go,” he said; but I 
can, if you want it particularly — or at anyrate send a mes- 
sage.” 

Oh, no, no! ” said Christina, with what she felt to 
be unnecessary vehemence. 

There was absolutely nothing to be done hut to shake 
hands, and say good-by. 

Lady Francis, who was popularly known to have gone 
more than three quarters of the way to meet her husband 
in his wooing, remarked in an undertone to the man she 
was talking to that the way that young woman threw her- 
self at men’s heads was extraordinary. Poor Captain Mc- 
Leod had never had a chance of escape, and now it was 
Captain Grant! 

But for once Christina’s too acute self-consciousness 
was entirely blotted out. She did not bestow a thought 
upon what she had said or upon what people might think 
of her. 

A number of men began to drop in — there were always 
men at the Wrenches — and comic songs and choruses be- 
came the order of the afternoon. 

Christina Joined in the choruses, and felt it was better 
than having to make conversation. 

What a dreadful thing it would he for McLeod if 
anything were to happen, and how impossible it would 
be that she should ever forgive herself! And it was so 
impossible to tell where Grant was or what he might be 
doing. 

It grew unbearable after a time, and drove her to de- 
cision. Something she raust do, or she herself would go 
mad. 

Lady Francis, after all, I don’t think I’ll go to polo 


266 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


to-day/’ she said, suddenly. I have some calls I ought 
to pay.” 

She had ended by jumping to an impulsive decision. 
She would go to Lady Ruskin — Lady Ruskin Avas a relation, 
and knew McLeod well. 

Christina had not seen much of the Ruskins lately. She 
knew very well that Lady Ruskin looked upon her coldly, 
and Gerty had been entirely engrossed with her own affairs. 

Lady Ruskin considered Christina a dangerous person; 
she blamed her for the infrequency of McLeod’s visits, and 
the change in him Avhich she had not been able to avoid 
remarking. After some inexplicable fashion she had also 
managed to shift the burden of Gerty’s misdeeds to her 
school friend’s shoulders, and the effect of her bad exam- 
ple, and she, too, was the stumbling block interfering with 
the realization of Lady Ruskin’s dreams for McLeod and her 
daughter. 

Men would misconduct themselves — it was very deplor- 
able, still they Avould; but a woman who got herself talked 
about was not to be forgiven. 

Christina had got herself talked about with McLeod. 

Consequently, Lady Ruskin withdrew into her shell, 
and was nervously chilling to her, which that young woman 
was only too quick to discover. 

But these Avere things too small to consider noAV. Lady 
Ruskin was a woman and McLeod’s cousin, and it seemed 
less treacherous to take his confidence to her. 

In the ferryboat, having arrived so far upon impulse, 
Christina began to have many qualms about what she was 
doing. Supposing what McLeod had said that morning Avas 
true, and that it had been all a ghastly joke? Would not 
Lady Ruskin then conclude that Christina herself was out 
of her mind? 

Or supposing Lady Ruskin Avould not believe her, or 
that McLeod found out Avhat she had done? 

There was no use in alloAving herself to think. 

She made a mistake at the Ruskins’ door: instead of 
asking to see Lady Ruskin alone, she alloAved herself to be 
shoAvn up to the draAAung room. 

There she found her hostess, indeed, but also Gerty, 
two or three other girls, and half a dozen young men. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


267 


Gerty seemed in a fair way of consoling herself. Grant 
had not broken her heart, but he had perhaps done worse. 
He had found the girl very young, full of animal spirits, 
with a character entirely unformed, and possibilities of 
steadying down into a worthy womanhood. 

He had made love to her by voice, behaviour, manner, 
in every way but in words; he had kissed her once, he had 
put his arm round her often, and he had taught her to thrill 
with vague excitement at his touch. Then he had sud- 
denly left her, roused, excited, moved beyond her own 
understanding. 

To a young man in Gerty’s case there would only have 
been a temporary harm, but her girlhood was spoilt. She 
could not do without the excitement he had brought 
into her life; for one man it bade fair to become every 
man. 

Christina was too full of other things to try and put 
herself in Gerty’s place; she was only conscious of a sensa- 
tion of disgust when she saw that the girl liked young 
Browning to touch her hand, and that she brushed against 
his shoulder once or twice as they looked over some ama- 
teur photographs he had brought for exhibition. 

Lady Ruskin’s greeting was nervous and distant; she 
felt anxious and out of place with all these festive young 
people in her drawing room, but she did not, as would have 
been natural, make any attempt to talk to Christina. 

Christina waited hopefully at first, but nobody seemed 
to have any idea of departure. They stayed and stayed, and 
she saw or imagined that the party was complete without 
her, and that she was rather in the way. She was quite 
sure Mr. Markham would be late for his watch, and that 
young Browning would not be able to pay the other two 
Sliema calls he talked of. They stayed and stayed. 

At last she rose desperately. 

Lady Ruskin, I have paid an unconscionable visit,^^ she 
said, with a nervous laugh; but might I see you alone for 
a few minutes? ” 

Lady Ruslan’s hand stopped on its way to the bell, and 
she looked decidedly astonished. 

Certainly, with pleasure,” she said, in a tone of dis- 
may. 


268 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Was it Gerty or Ruskin or Andrew? With a quick relief 
she felt it was probably the latter. 

Had the girl come to her for sympathy or help in wrong- 
doing? If so, she had made a great mistake; in all cir- 
cumstances it was, in Lady Ruskin’s opinion, a woman’s 
duty to shut her eyes and cling to her husband. 

In the morning room Christina turned to her with a 
white face and difficult words. 

Lady Ruskin was so gently unsympathetic, and left it so 
entirely to her to speak. 

It was a very difficult to thing to say. 

“ Lady Ruskin, I want to tell you a terrible thing about 

Captain McLeod ” She paused in sheer difficulty of 

speech. 

Lady Ruskin was very much afraid she was going to he 
shocked. “ Really, Mrs. Stoddart ” she began. 

Christina went on hurriedly. I feel obliged to tell 
somebody. It is terribly, terribly sad; but it is not safe 
that there should not be a watch set over him — he would 
not think it right himself, I am sure,” she ended, wist- 
fully. 

Lady Ruskin gave a shrill, frightened scream. What 
do you mean? What are you talking about?” 

Now that there was no going back, Christina told the 
whole story steadily enough. It seemed worse as she put it 
in words, far worse, than when it had been between her and 
McLeod, and every sentence seemed to build and strengthen 
a barrier between them. Now she had told his own people 
who had a right to know, and what became of him need 
concern her no longer. 

Lady Ruskin broke into the difficult tears of an old 
woman. 

Oh, my poor boy! — oh, my poor Andrew! I don’t be- 
lieve it — it can’t be true! ” 

But that she did believe it was obvious. Great as the 
shock was, it had not come to her as to one utterly unpre- 
pared. She had known of Lady Drumesk’s fears, she had 
heard rumours and whisperings about that first strange 
illness of his. 

Christina would have liked to say some words of com- 
fort had she not been afraid of being unwelcome. Lady 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


269 


Euskin was sorry for him, and for that she felt grateful, 
and she had a right to he sorry and to show her sorrow. 

Christina’s eyes were quite dry; tears were for such 
things as partings and death — too slight for such an awful 
living martyrdom as this. 

After all, it was upon her that the responsibility of mak- 
ing suggestions fell. 

Lady Euskin was helpless. 

What can I do ? If it is true, what can I do ? At this 
time in the evening too! And how can I interfere? If I 
tell Euskin, I don’t know what will happen.” 

I think,” said Christina, if you were to tell the colo- 
nel.” 

She wished she had consulted McLeod himself long 
ago as to what should be done. She had no confidence in 
her own judgment or Lady Euskin’s.” 

Or the doctor,” she suggested after a moment’s con- 
sideration. 

But what can they do? What can anybody do? Oh, 
my poor Andrew! ” 

“ Nobody can do anything,” said Christina, quietly, 
“ at present. But they could have him — watched.” 

She was surprised at her own calm words, with never a 
touch of pity in them for McLeod. 

Lady Euskin did not think at all about Christina. If 
she felt for McLeod more than a friend had a right to do, 
it was her own fault, and she deserved to suffer. 

And Christina was proudly conscious of it, and went 
her way without one sign of feeling. 

But that night she knelt beside her bed, and prayed with 
all her heart and all her strength that before morning came 
McLeod might die. 

She would have been willing to bargain with God that 
the whole happiness of her life should pay for this great 
boon. 


18 


270 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER y. 

CsmsTiNA awoke next morning with a feeling that 
something dreadful was going to happen. 

It was a close, oppressive morning, with a cloudy sky 
and no breeze — a depressing day in itself. 

She got up late and dressed very slowly, trying to spend 
as much time as possible. She felt illogically certain that 
something was going to happen. 

She wondered what Lady Ruskin had done. The re- 
sponsibility was off Christina’s, shoulders. Theoretically, 
anything that might happen now did not concern her, and 
practically there was no way for her to find out how things 
went. 

She must simply wait, and she was not naturally pa- 
tient. 

She was afraid to go out. She had no physical fear of 
McLeod, but morally she was afraid to meet him, with the 
knowledge of his betrayed confidence, necessary though it 
had been to betray it, even for his own sake. 

She could not help listening with bated breath to every 
footstep along the passage outside her door, and a knock 
made her start nervously. 

It was hopeless even to pretend to do anything. She 
rearranged the only box she had brought with her to Mor- 
rell’s; she copied a chapter or two of her last story, which 
really did not need to be copied at all; and then she sat 
down and tried to concentrate her attention on a very stupid 
novel she had brought from the library the day before. 

Nobody came near her. The Wrenches were naturally 
sociable souls, and, though they might traduce Christina 
behind her back, would never have allowed her to sit alone 
in her room, but they had gone on a yachting expedition. 

She felt dreadfully alone as the day crawled away. Her 
head ached, and she felt sick and worried physically and 
mentally. 

She had found the absence of the Wrenches a relief at 
first, but before they got back from their picnic, at about 
five, she had begun to long for them. 

They were in high spirits; they had had a delightful 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


271 


sail, and capital fun. Captain Webber had made himself 
most charming, and he was going to take them to Gozo on 
Saturday. He must be introduced to Christina, as he was 
anxious to ask her, too. They had had a luxurious luncheon 
— champagne, ice pudding. Wasn’t Mrs. Stoddart specially 
fond of ice pudding? 

They had had a very ample tea likewise, but the sea air 
had made them so hungry that they were quite ready to do 
justice to a second edition. Wouldn’t Mrs. Stoddart have 
another bit of muffin? 

At this point in the conversation a waiter made his ap- 
pearance with an extra jug of cream, and the information 
that there was “ a gentleman.” 

For me ? ” said Lady Francis. 

“ No, my lady; for Mrs. Stoddart.” 

Won’t he come in, then?” said Lady Francis, lan- 
guidly. 

“ I’ll go and see,” said Christina. 

“ Perhaps you’d better,” Lady Francis assented, with in- 
difference; ‘Mast time ‘a gentleman’ was announced, it 
turned out to be a shopboy from Manchester House.” 

“ Probably it’s the man about our flat,” said Christina. 

I’ll have a fresh cup of tea ready for you,” said Lady 

Eva. 

Christina refused, with a laughing allusion to Lady 
Eva’s powers of tea-drinking, and went out, dawdling lazily 
along the passage towards the landing. 

McLeod had been in her mind all day, hut just at that 
moment she was not thinking of him. She was wondering 
if it was her former landlord, whether she would be able 
to keep a grave face while she listened to his marvellous 
English; she must not disgrace herself by laughing as she 
had done last time. 

It came upon her quite with the freshness of a shock 
when McLeod came forward to meet her — McLeod with 
such a white face and such a strange, excited manner. 

There was a little unwonted disorder in his usually 
scrupulously correct attire: his waistcoat was not fully but- 
toned and his tie was out of place. Christina noticed these 
little things in one hasty glance. 

He came up to her and caught her arm. 


272 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS., 


I have come for yon/^ he said; there is nobody else 
here, is there? 

He peered round, not looking freely and frankly as 
a man ought to look, but with the eyes of a hunted ani- 
mal. 

Christina had one moment of overmastering terror, 
during which she could have fled' and left him; then she 
turned to him with a steady smile. 

There is nobody else here. Captain McLeod, hut there 
are several people in the drawing room; will you come 
and have some tea? ” 

“ You don’t know what I have come for, then? ” 

Had he discovered her betrayal, and come to reproach 
her with it? She felt it would be more than she could bear. 
But he did not speak angrily, only very sadly and reso- 
lutely. 

I suppose you have come for some tea, and to see me.” 

She wished he would look away from her for one mo- 
ment. 

I’ve come — I must whisper it to you ” 

Christina stood her ground firmly; she did not shrink 
when McLeod, with another furtive glance round, came 
quite close to her and spoke in her ear. 

The time has come for us both to die,” he said. 

She knew everything now. There were no more doubts 
or hopes. It remained for her to face the blow as best she 
might. 

McLeod drew back a few steps, looking at her suspi- 
ciously to see the effect of his words, and she forced her lips 
into a fixed smile. 

This is very sudden,” she said; hut I daresay you 
are right. Only, I should like to understand your reasons.” 

Surely somebody would pass by; there were so often 
people coming and going in this landing. 

He answered her at once and very earnestly. 

I have plenty of reasons. I am only thinking of what 
is best for you. You see, I must die — there’s no doubt 
about that; and you are married to a husband you hate, 
and there’s no other chance of happiness for you. I have 
thought it all out. Come, there’s no time to waste.” 

It’s quite early still,” said Christina. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


273 


I want to give you your choice. See, what I have 
here.” 

He took a long Japanese knife from his pocket, han- 
dling it tenderly and drawing his finger up and down the 
sharp blade. 

I have hidden this for days,” he said, in a confidential 
whisper, to have it ready. When you were at St. 
Angelo the other night I thought the time had come, hut 
you called me to look at photographs, and then I remem- 
bered that Grant must come first, and thought it better to 
wait. Can’t you feel the pleasure of drawing this along 
your throat? It is perfectly bright and sharp and clean.” 

Christina felt an odd difficulty in concentrating her 
thoughts and words. I see what you mean. But you 
wouldn’t do that here — in the hotel ? It would not be fair. 
You see, the carpet ” 

Her eyes followed the gleaming knife blade with a 
fascination that made her forget what she was going to 
say. 

I thought of that. That was what made me decide to 
ask you if you would prefer drowning? I don’t mind at 
all, and I want to do as you wish.” But for the excitement 
in McLeod’s manner, he might have been making the most 
ordinary proposition in the world, and politely waiting for 
Christina’s decision. 

That will he much better,” she said at once. 

^^Are you ready, then? I have chosen the place and 
my cart is at the door to take -us there.” 

Christina began to feel as if she was playing a part in 
a ghastly kind of comedy: it was impossible that this could 
be really happening — that this horrible fate could he held 
out to her in a hotel full of people. 

I can’t possibly go without my hat,” she said. She 
was thinking busily the whole time, so busily that her head 
began to get confused. 

McLeod looked at her suspiciously. 

I am not going to let you go alone,” he said; you 
don’t understand what is the best thing for you, and I do. 
If you attempt to speak to anybody, I will kill you at once.” 

I don’t want to speak to anybody,” said Christina, 
steadily. I am quite ready to do as you wish. But I 


274 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


should not like to suffer pain. Will you let me feel if that 
knife is sharp ? 

He gave a cunning laugh. 

Ho, no/’ he said, I am not so simple as that! But 
if you don’t like this, I will put it away. I have a pistol 
here, and, by God! if you betray us — ^ — Don’t you see 
that there is no other way? If there was, I wouldn’t take 
this. Everybody has turned against us, and you can’t live 
in a world where people all hate you and turn you into ridi- 
cule. We must be quick, quick, or they will be here! ” 

The hunted look came back into his eyes as he glanced 
furtively over his shoulder. 

He walked to Christina’s room with her and made her 
leave the door open, planting himself as a sentinel in the 
doorway. 

She had thought of the bell, but to ring it meant in all 
probability instant death. She revolved plan after plan 
in her mind as she tried delay over her hat at the glass. 
They must drive down Strada Reale, and surely they would 
see some one to whom she could appeal, even if they left 
the hotel without meeting any one. 

In the shadow of the wardrobe she managed to scribble 
a hasty line with a pencil she had in her pocket and a piece 
of newspaper: Captain McLeod is mad! For God’s sake, 
help! ” There was no time for more. McLeod was already 
very impatient. 

I am ready,” said Christina. But the Wrenches— 
won’t they think it rude if I don’t go in for a moment to 
say good-by ? ” 

It won’t matter to us what they think,” said McLeod. 

There is no time to lose.” 

They had to pass the door of the Wrenches’ sitting room 
on their way to the stairs, and Christina lingered as much 
as she could, only too conscious that he watched her every 
movement. As they passed, the door suddenly opened, and 
Lady Eva came out, swinging her hat in her hand and hum- 
ming cheerfully to herself. 

Hullo! Captain McLeod,” she said, you’d better 
come in and have some tea; Mrs. Stoddart, you never came 
back for your last cup. Frank has just gone down to 
the club. Didn’t you meet him? ” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


275 


Christina saw McLeod’s hand go to his pocket. He an- 
swered Lady Eva with his eyes fixed steadily on Christina. 

Thank you/’ he said; there’s not time to go in. I 
am going to take Mrs. Stoddart for a drive.” 

“It’s rather late, isn’t it?” said Lady Eva, with some 
surprise. “ Are you going to dine with us to-night, Mrs. 
Stoddart? I am sure Ethel will he delighted if Captain 
McLeod will come, too.” 

“ I am afraid I can’t,” said McLeod. “ As you say, it 
is late, and I don’t think we ought to delay any longer.” 

Christina had made no attempt to speak. If Lord Fran- 
cis had been there, she might have been driven to some 
desperate effort, hut what help would she find in two other 
women against an armed madman? 

If McLeod had gone on in front and let her follow him, 
she would have had the chance of dropping the note she 
had scrawled; hut he drew hack politely and made her pre- 
cede him, without ever taking his hand from his pocket. 

She went mechanically down the stairs. She was begin- 
ning to give up hope of escape, and to grow half inclined 
to yield to his imperious will; hut still she felt in some odd 
way as if all this did not concern her, as if it were a kind 
of exciting puzzle to which she was bound in honour to find 
a solution. 

But with the open air she regained hopefulness. She 
would do her best to save her life. 

McLeod’s new dogcart, with NTur-el-din between the 
shafts, was waiting at the door, and a small native boy was 
standing at the horse’s head. 

There was no help to he got from him. Christina went 
round to stroke Nur-el-din’s soft nose, hut McLeod called 
to her impatiently. 

She allowed herself to he helped into the cart, with her 
twisted note held firmly crushed in her left hand. Strada 
Reale was her only hope; she was on the wrong side for the 
club, hut surely they would meet somebody. She made 
a faint request to he allowed to drive, hut McLeod refused 
abruptly. 

Then the hoy let Hur-el-din’s head go, McLeod gathered 
up the reins, and they started on their strange drive. 

Where were they going to, and what would he the end 


276 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


of it? she wondered, as she glanced quickl}^ from side to 
side in the gathering dusk. 

McLeod bent over her. “We have escaped them all! ” 
he said, in a voice of exultation; “ you must trust to me 
now. You know I would not hurt a hair of your head if 
it could he helped, but if you move I shall shoot you. But 
you are brave, aren’t you? You know it is the only thing 
for us? ” 

They had turned into the Strada Reale. 

“ You know that I agree with you entirely,” said Chris- 
tina; “ hut I don’t want to be shot, and you have allowed 
me to choose. Where shall we go? Why not choose the 
Waves Point? ” she suggested, with a sudden remembrance 
of the sentinel they must pass to reach it. 

As she spoke she looked at him. He was a little untidy 
and dishevelled, and his manner was strange, but it was not 
a difference that would be noticeable to passers-hy; it was 
useless to hope for that. 

There were a couple of soldiers walking along the open 
square by St. John’s. Should she throw the note now on 
the chance of their seeing it? If she did, would it not he 
trodden under foot by passing Maltese before they reached 
it, and if not, would they be 'prompt* 

She caught sight of Campbell and another man buying 
flowers at one of the little green stands. If they would 
only look round! But they never turned. 

With her eyes fixed upon them, Christina missed the 
general and his wife till it was too late. 

There were at least half a dozen officers on the club 
steps. This would have been her chance, had not McLeod, 
with his hand on his pistol, been between her and them. 

Two or three of them raised their caps — one threw them 
a laughing salutation. If they only knew! 

“ Let us stop for half a second. I have a message for 
Mr. Browning,” she ventured to say. 

McLeod turned upon her fiercely. “ Are you mad? ” 
he said. He sent Hur-el-din on at a. quick trot. The game 
little horse needed no whip, or there might have been a 
chance. 

Even if she had been allowed to speak to Mr. Browning, 
how could she have explained quickly enough, so that he 


McLEOB OF THE CAMERONS. 


277 


should understand what she was talking about before Mc- 
Leod did? She hesitated about dropping her note into the 
road behind the dogcart till it was too late. 

It was her only chance, and if she wasted it^ there was 
little hope left. 

There were two or three men coming down the opera 
house steps — probably they had just taken their stalls for 
the evening’s performance. Christina had been going with 
the Wrenches. 

Should she throw the note? There was no time to re- 
flect, and it seemed her last chance. With a good aim the 
bit of paper ought to reach the ground quite close to the 
feet of the approaching men. Almost she had waited too 
long. With a sudden impulse, she flung the note behind 
her with all her strength. It was necessarily a left-handed 
throw, and consequently uncertain. It might have failed 
altogether to reach the footway, and he by this time ground 
into the dust under horses’ feet. 

She could not look behind to see, for McLeod was 
watching her suspiciously. 

What did you do ? ” he said. 

Christina gave a sigh, which was almost of relief. She 
' could do no more now.* She must simply sit and wait for 
w^hat might happen. 

She wished she had flnished that last story of hers. She 
wondered who would undertake to write to George, and to 
her father. Surely somebody would write to her father, 
and not leave him to see it for the first time in the paper. 

Drowning accident at Malta. A very sad accident.” — 
Would they call it an accident? How would they explain 
it? The Wrenches would have something to talk about 
for at least a week. Would they think that she, too, had 
sought death willingly? 

They were outside the gates now, and Hur-el-din quick- 
ened his pace. 

They met a festive returning picnic party, and had to 
slacken a little and thread their way through the dogcarts 
and riders. 

Christina hesitated to make one cry for help, hut Mc- 
Leod was watching her closely. 

The McFerrans were in the last dogcart. Christina 


278 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


wished somebody would tell Mrs. McFerran how unbecom- 
ing large hats were to her. She really had no idea about 
dressing; of course they were poor, but that was the very 
reason she ought to avoid startling colours. 

Then she was shocked at herself for allowing her mind 
to be distracted by such inappropriate thoughts. 

They turned into the Sliema road. George’s two ideas 
for Sunday walks had been the Sliema road and the golf 
course, and last Sunday they had walked right round to 
Sliema in the cool of the evening, and come back by the 
ferryboat, and all the way Christina had been thinking of 
the wonderful, delightful week of freedom that was before 
her. 

McLeod turned to her with a kind of excited tenderness 
in his manner. 

‘'You are not afraid?” he said. “Don’t you see you 
couldnH go on living with your husband, and — there’s no 
other way. It won’t be hard to die, and I shall hold you 
closely — darling’^ 

It was the only lover’s word that Christina was ever to 
hear from his lips. 

Behind them came a sudden rattle of wheels. 

McLeod looked hastily back. 

“ We are not safe yet! ” he said. 

There was a dogcart following them. More, in the dusk, 
Christina could not make out. It might have nothing to 
say to them, or it might mean a possible rescue. 

“ They are after us again! ” said McLeod, a little 
wildly. 

They were going down hill, and Yur-el-din broke into 
a gallop. 

There was a shout from the other dogcart. 

Christina could not make her voice quite steady as she 
spoke. 

“ Don’t go so fast,” she said; “ those people have got 
nothing to do with us.” 

“ They are hunting us! ” cried McLeod, with excite- 
ment, “ but they shan’t catch us alive.” 

The pace grew furious. Nur-d-din was gamely doing 
his best, and they tore down the hill, with the dogcart rock- 
ing under them and the wind whistling past them. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


279 


It was like a very evil dream. McLeod grew wildly 
excited, and Christina herself began to feel a mad exhilara- 
tion in the race, and an irrational feeling of being hunted. 

McLeod snatched his pistol. 

“ It is their own fault — their own fault,’^ he muttered 
to himself. 

Did he mean death to them or to their pursuers? 

“You are not going to fire?^^ said Christina, very 
quickly. 

But McLeod’s mind was entirely engrossed with the 
idea of escape. He leaned back in the dogcart, and before 
she realized what he was going to do there was a loud re- 
port, and he sat up with the smoking pistol in his hand. 

There was no sound from the cart behind. Christina 
wondered if anybody was hurt. 

Hur-el-din swerved across the road in such a way as 
nearly to upset them, and dashed on again. 

So far the road had been free, but at the turn of the 
hay they came upon a blockade of carts and carrozzes. Mc- 
Leod drove on recklessly. If he had wanted to stop now, 
it would have been useless, for Hur-el-din was beyond con- 
trol. 

McLeod never was still for an instant: he shouted to 
the carts, to their pursuers, to Christina. 

Almost they had shaved through successfully, when they 
suddenly found themselves directly opposite an advancing 
carrozze. Christina shut her eyes, and did not know what 
to hope for, and McLeod gave a shout. 

Then there was a crash, an outburst of excited cries and 
exclamations, a confused swaying mass of men and horses, 
and Christina' was thrown violently on to the road, and 
what happened next concerned her not. 


2S0 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Cheistixa opened her eyes in a sort of bedlam. Na- 
tives were shrieking and disputing at the top of their voices, 
to an accompaniment of hearty British curses, terrified 
horses were kicking and plunging, and the confusion 
seemed complete. 

What had happened? Where was she? In the first 
painful return to consciousness she did not know. 

‘^My God! isn’t there any brandy?” she heard some- 
body say, quite close to her. “ Send one of those shrieking 
idiots into Yaletta — there is no time to be lost.” 

Christina turned with a sort of relief to the one famil- 
iar face in the crowd. 

Mr. McFerran,” she said, what is the matter? ” 

McFerran really did not know; he was an estimable but 
by no means brilliant young man, and he was honestly be- 
wildered. 

He and his wife had been quietly driving home from 
a picnic, when their dogcart had been seized in the dusk 
by a couple of excited middies, who had turned Mrs. Mc- 
Ferran into the street with a hasty and inadequate ex- 
planation, and had carried him off, where or for what he 
was by no means clear. 

But he was much relieved to find that Christina, who 
had been Ijdng white and still for the last five minutes, was 
not dead. 

“ There’s been an accident,” he explained, somewhat 
unnecessarily. 

Christina was beginning to collect her scattered wits. 

Captain McLeod? ” she said, with sudden terror. 

Why was Mr. McFerran so carefully keeping himself 
between her and something f 

“ He’s only stunned, I hope,” said McFerran; we have 
sent for the doctor. For goodness’ sake, silence that howl- 
ing beast, one of you fellows! ” 

But the Maltese carrozze driver, shrieking at the top of 
his voice, with fioods of tears pouring down his cheeks, was 
not to be so easily silenced. 

I’ll put you into a carrozze and send you home, Mrs. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 281 

Stoddart,” McFerran said, which was obviously an excel- 
lent suggestion. 

Christina hesitated. There w^as a sense of extreme con- 
fusion in her head, and she felt sick and bruised and shaken. 
Clearly she was of no use here, and very much in the way, 
hut she could not go away in uncertainty. 

“Might I see Captain McLeod for one minute?” she 
said. She had a ghastly fear of what McFerran might be 
trying to keep from her. 

But he assented at once. 

Then she got up, and to her surprise felt she w^as shak- 
ing all over, shaking so much that she could not stand, and 
had to cling suddenly to McFerran^s arm. 

There was nothing terrible about McLeod; he w^as lying 
in the middle of the road, w^here the crowd had been suc- 
cessfully beaten back, and one of the middies, a tall youth 
of eighteen, was supporting him in a half-sitting position, 
wLile he bathed his forehead with water out of a hat. 

“ Is he — dead ? ” said Christina. 

The hoy looked up. “ Dead? Not a hit of it,” he said; 
“ the doctor will bring him round in a shake.” 

“ May I not put you into a carrozze ? ” said McFerran, 
urgently. “ This is no place for you.” 

Then, as she moved to obey, she was again conscious 
that he interposed between her and something. 

“ What is it? ” she said; “ I don’t want to he a trouble, 
and I am beyond minding anything — you may believe me. 
What don’t you want me to see? ” 

“ Oh, nothing,” McFerran said, hastily, with rather a 
white face; “but the dogcart is in tinder, and — the horse 
is a bit hurt.” 

“ What!— Nur-el-din? ” 

“Yes, poor brute. Don’t look, Mrs. Stoddart — it is 
rather sickening.” 

A carrozze horse, with two broken legs, was making 
wild, convulsive efforts to stand, and a few paces off lay 
Nur-el-din in a pool of blood, gasping out his life, with a 
hole in his chest where the shaft of a carrozze had caught 
and literally impaled him. 

The sight had made McFerran himself feel very sick 
and faint for a moment. 


282 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


You will find Captain McLeod’s pistol somewhere/’ 
said Christina, with her head turned away. 

All right,” said McFerran. 

He put her into a carrozze, with one of the middies to 
look after her, though she protested there was no need for 
her to trouble anybody. But it was a relief not to have to 
think at all. 

As they turned into Valetta, they heard the distant re- 
port of a pistol, and Christina heaved a long sigh of relief 
in the knowledge that Hur-el-din’s sufferings were ended. 

Her middy was very capable and kind. He actually 
helped her up to her bedroom, and settled her on her bed 
as if he had been a woman, and got her some brandy and 
sent for a maid. 

Christina confusedly felt that she had much to he grate- 
ful to him for and tried to thank him, but he cut her short 
cheerfully. 

“ I must go hack now,” he said, and see if I can he of 
any use. I hope you will have good news of your husband 
in an hour or so.” 

Her husband? What did he mean? Christina lay idly 
puzzling over it in her mind after he had gone, till the 
solution suddenly dawned upon her, and she fell into hys- 
terical laughter. 

When the tardy chambermaid arrived, she found her 
patient shaking all over with sobs and convulsive laughter. 

Christina had never known what it was to be hysterical 
in her life before. 

She had not the least idea what time of the day or night 
it was ,when Lady Eva came in. The maid had helped her 
to bed, and then she had lain there, sobbing and shudder- 
ing, occasionally falling into momentary dozes, from which ♦ 
she started awake, half mad with terror. 

Lady Eva came in with a rustle of silk, and Christina 
realized that she was in full evening dress under her opera 
cloak. 

Her appearance had a good effect in making Christina 
pull herself together, and make an effort to collect her 
thoughts. 

You poor thing! ” said Lady Eva, sitting down upon 
the bed, why ever didn’t you send for me? Just think. 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


283 


I knew nothing at all till a man came to our box and told 
us, and I don^t know how much of his story to believe. 
Why didn^t you send for me? ” 

“ I don’t know — I didn’t think,” said Christina, wearily. 

Good gracious! how hot your hands are! Just fancy 
my meeting you and Captain McLeod, and noticing noth- 
ing wrong! It’s a most romantic tale. Was he going to 
shoot you, like Captain Grant ? ” 

“ Captain Grant? ” Christina started up in bed. 

Lie down, you silly girl; he didn’t kill him. Captain 
Grant is going about with his arm in a sling, looking most 
interesting. Did you really throw a note to the middies, 
and did they pick it up and rush to the rescue? Everybody 
is talking about it, and nobody seems to know the rights 
of the case.” 

^^How is Captain McLeod?” said Christina, in a low 
voice. 

She was not listening to Lady Eva’s words, hut the pres- 
ence of anybody was a comfort. She had an unreasoning 
terror of being left alone again. 

“ They have taken him up to hospital, hut they don’t 
seem to know much. How did it all happen? Is it true 
that he was mad? ” 

“ Oh, I can’t talk about it! ” said Christina, with a sud- 
den cry of pain. 

Lady Eva was on the whole very kind. She settled 
Christina comfortably in bed, she discovered she had had 
no dinner, and insisted on making her eat something; she 
asked her if she had everything she wanted, and restrained 
her curiosity. 

Once or twice Christina opened her lips to ask her not 
to leave her alone all the long night, hut as often she re- 
strained herself from speaking. There was no reason in 
the world why Lady Eva should put herself to so much 
trouble for an acquaintance. 

Christina never liked to think of that night when it 
was over. She was completely unnerved. Sometimes she 
fancied she saw the door gradually open, and McLeod ap- 
pear, with his long, bright knife in his hand; sometimes she 
thought that a murderer lurked behind the drapery of the 
dressing table, or in the shadow of the tall wardrobe. 


284 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Again, between sleep and wakefulness, she and McLeod 
were tearing along the Sliema road, hunted by many dog- 
carts, or they were drowning, while she struggled to escape, 
and he held her ever more and more tightly, and forced her 
under the choking water. 

She tried to make her mind a blank, she tried to draw 
her thoughts to. other things, but always in vain. She lay 
on her back and rolled herself up tightly in the bedclothes, 
that at least she need not fear that any one should come 
behind her, or that she should see the face of a madman 
over her shoulder. 

It was a long, endless night. 

With the morning sleep came to her. She awoke late, 
and spent an odd, dishevelled sort of day. With her be- 
lated breakfast notice of her ship came to her from the 
P. & 0. office, and she was startled to realize that this was 
Friday, and that her hoped-for week was almost over. 

The Wrenches were very kind and very much inter- 
ested. They were anxious for all particulars, a great 
many more particulars than Christina saw fit to give, and 
through the day they came at intervals with varying stories 
of McLeod’s chances of life, and odd bits of information as 
to what people had said. McLeod, as a racing man, and as 
being well to the fore at garrison concerts and regimental 
entertainments of all kinds, was about the most universally 
known person in Malta, and everybody was talking about 
him. 

The regiment was not communicative, and was not 
much in evidence. 

Lady Eva had captured Captain Grant in Strada Reale, 
but had failed to make much of him. Possibly he had no 
objection to be seen with his arm in a sling, but he did not 
parade his misfortune, and what he said of McLeod was 
very heartily and warmly spoken. 

Perhaps it was as well for Christina that the Wrenches 
had no delicacies or reserves in telling her all that gossip 
said, and that they did not allow her to fancy that the sub- 
ject could not be discussed freely before her. 

Gerty Ruskin-Boyd came in in the afternoon, burning 
with excitement. 

Didn’t Chrissy feel herself a heroine? How terrible it 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


285 


must have been! What had Andrew said and done ? Wasn’t 
it strange that Mr. Browning had seen them pass the club 
and had guessed nothing? 

Gerty’s conversation was sprinkled with Mr. Brown- 
ing’s name, as it had once been with Captain Grant’s. 

What did Chrissy think would have happened if the 
middies had not found her note, or had not been quick 
enough ? 

This was a question which even the Wrenches had hesi- 
tated about putting to Christina, though they had discussed 
it with each other and with everybody they met. It was 
quite unanswerable, and Christina said so impatiently. 

Lady Buskin did not come; Gerty said she was too much 
shocked and upset, but she felt sure if Chrissy would go 
over she would be glad to see her. But Christina felt by 
no means so sure of this, and declined on the grounds of 
her immediate departure. 

She flatly refused to go to Gozo next day in Captain 
Webber’s yacht, though Lady Eva was most anxious that 
she should. 

There is no good staying at home and worrying and 
fretting yourself into a fever,” she said; it is much better 
to try and amuse yourself and forget all bothers. And, 
besides, you ought to go. What is Hecuba to you or you 
to Hecuba? People are talking quite enough as it is.” 

I shan’t have time to worry or fret, for there will be 
a good deal to do, the last day,” said Christina; “ and as for 
making people talk, I don’t think my going to Gozo would 
stop that.” 

I don’t know what you can possibly have to do! ” said 
Lady Eva. 

But Christina was quite firm. 

She was glad when she was left alone in the evening 
to establish herself comfortably in a big armchair with a 
book on her knee, and think. 

In a day or two she and McLeod would vanish out of 
the lives of all these people, who were just at present so 
much interested in them. 

Next winter their places would be filled up, and nobody 
would miss them. And to each other, whether McLeod 
lived or died, they would be absolutely lost. 

19 


286 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


He had made to her all the pleasure of her Malta win- 
ter, and now he would make all the pain in recalling it. 

He had called her darling.” He had given her an 
insight into all that she had lost out of her life. 

She could never go hack to George now — never — never. 
That at least seemed to be decided. If the best of life was 
shut out from her by a child’s mistake, she need not choose 
the worst. 

She might shake herself free, and find happiness of 
another kind in her writing. The cruelty to George seemed 
less great now that he was so far away and so entirely in 
the background. 

Next morning, in pursuit of this new idea, and in the 
security of the Wrenches’ absence, she faced life again. 

She got out her story and forced herself to finish it, and 
to crush back intrusive thoughts. 

In the middle. Dr. Adams came to see her. It was a 
professional sort of visit, for which he apologized. He 
wanted Mrs. Stoddart to tell him everything she could about 
the preliminaries of McLeod’s attack. Dr. Adams — he did 
not allow himself to he called Dr. Adams, being a surgeon- 
captain or something of that description — was a chatty 
little man, not absolutely a gentleman, and for that reason 
perhaps in some ways easier to talk to just then. 

There was a great deal of honest pity in his voice when 
he spoke of McLeod, and told her that to all appearance 
there was no further danger from his accident. 

‘‘ 1 daresay I ought to say I am glad,” said Christina, 
^‘hut I can’t. I would a thousand times rather, for his 
sake, that you had come here to tell me that he was 
dead.” 

Come, now, you mustn’t say that, Mrs. Stoddart,” 
Dr. Adams remonstrated. McLeod seems to be quite him- 
self again. But it is an odd thing that he doesn’t seem 
the least surprised to find himself in hospital. He asks no 
questions, not even when he doesn’t get a knife at dinner- 
time, and, though he did say something about shaving this 
morning, he was quite easily put off with some absurd ex- 
cuse.” 

Tears sprang into Christina’s eyes. He Icnows,” she 
said, softly. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 2SY 

Dr. Adams had nothing to say. He, too, thought that 
McLeod knew. 

‘‘ What will be done with him? said Christina, after a 
long pause. 

He is to be sent to England by the next trooper. The 
Serapis is due some day next week.’^ 

“ And then? 

Dr. Adams answered with some hesitation. 

Of course then it depends. We can only hope for the 
best.” 

‘^But is there any chance? Hot I mean of the army, 
but of his being able to live — like other people? ” 

“ If you want the truth, Mrs. Stoddart, I am afraid it is 
all up with him. You see, people are beginning to talk 
now of Beresford’s death; and though that may not be 
pressed, still I am afraid it will be a case of getting worse. 
By Jove! it does seem a cruel thing that the wheels shaved 
his head the other day! ” 

There was a long silence. Christina was picturing to 
herself the colourless, futile life that lay before McLeod, 
and wondering how he would bear it. 

You would be astonished at the way the regiment take 
it. I went to Baviar to see about some things McLeod 
wanted, and, by Jove! they talked of nothing else. The 
seniors were capping stories about all he had done in Egypt 
and India, and the others were following it up with exploits 
on the moors at home, or recollections of the races he’d won. 
And as for the men — why, I think I was asked how he was 
fifty times if I was asked once, as I crossed the barrack 
square.” 

“He was very popular, I think,” said Christina; and 
then, with a stab of pain, she realized that she had used the 
past tense, and that they were both speaking as of a dead 
man. 

“ There was a report that he was dead yesterday, you 
know,” said Dr. Adams, “ and I’ll tell you a true story 
about that. Seton-Kerr — of course you know he was Mc- 
Leod’s subaltern — says he was stopped by half a dozen men, 
regular bigoted Scotch Presbyterians, with a sum of money 
— I forget how much — which they wanted him to spend 
in masses for their captain. Just think of that! And I 


288 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


have no doubt they believed they were perjuring their eter- 
nal salvation by pandering to ‘ papishes.^ ” 

I am glad they did that. I should like to shake hands 
with those men/’ said Christina, with flushing cheeks. 

When Dr. Adams rose to say good-by, she made a re- 
quest which had been in her mind for some time. 

Might she go and see McLeod? Would he care to see 
her? She was going home on Sunday — to-morrow — but if 
this afternoon would do? 

It might he a good plan,” said Dr. Adams, reflectively; 
“ he might tell you more than he would tell me. But it 
will he awfully painful.” 

It will he less painful,” said Christina, than going 
home with my last remembrance of him what it is.” 


CHAPTER YII. 

His room is at the end of this passage. Do you feel 
at all nervous about seeing him alone? ” 

Dr. Adams had asked the last question because of the 
sudden rush of colour that flushed into Christina’s usually 
colourless face. 

She shook her head. 

Because I can send in one of the orderlies with you, 
or go in myself if you preferred it ? ” Dr. Adams was by no 
means devoid of curiosity, and would have made a third at 
the interview with great pleasure. 

I would much rather not,” said Christina, emphat- 
ically. 

Dr. Adams, with his cheerful, unceasing ripple of small 
talk, would have been a maddening third; she would rather 
have turned hack and gone straight to the hotel without 
seeing McLeod than have agreed to see him under such 
guardianship. 

Well, there’^ no danger. He is perfectly quiet, and to 
all appearance sensible. I told him you were coming, and 
he took it as stolidly as he takes everything else. He may 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


289 


say more to you alone. You’ll let me know if lie gives yon 
reason to think he is nursing any ideas of suicide? They 
generally do.” 

Dr. Adams paused for these last words at the door of 
McLeod’s room, and spoke in a whisper. Christina felt a 
mad impulse to laugh. It was like being introduced with 
all due precaution into the cage of a wild animal. 

“ I will leave the door a little open, and there will be 
a man within hearing of the smallest sound; in case you 
feel nervous, I will tell him to look into the room now 
and then. But you may be quite sure if there was the small- 
est danger I wouldn’t allow you to see him.” 

Christina made an impatient movement towards the 
door. Dr. Adams didn’t know what he was talking about. 
Was this a time to consider herself and her feelings? She 
was feeling for McLeod — realizing what a meeting in such 
wise would he for a proud, self-reliant man. 

The doctor was still volubly encouraging her as he 
opened the door. 

Here’s a visitor for you, McLeod,” he said, with an 
overdone joviality, which was meant to ignore anything 
unusual or painful. 

McLeod was sitting by the window, doing nothing, not 
even looking out. He had always been a man who liked to 
spend the most part of his time in active employment, and 
who, when he did nothing, enjoyed doing nothing with all 
his heart, in a comfortable armchair with a pipe. 

But now he had not even chosen the most comfortable 
chair in the room, and he was not smoking. 

He rose without elasticity, hut still with a certain lack 
of his usual deliberation, and came to meet Christina. 

It is very kind of you to come,” he said. 

The hurry and excitement of the last few days had gone 
out of his voice, and given place to his old slow speech. 
There was a certain new stoop of his broad shoulders, as if 
the helplessness of a strong man was finding physical ex- 
pression. But his eyes as they met hers were the eyes of a 
sane man. 

It’s a good pull up these stairs, isn’t it ? ” he said, and 
Christina vaguely assented. Dr. Adams’s presence acted 
upon her as a complete restraint. 


290 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


McLeod drew up a chair to the window for her, and 
glanced expectantly at Dr. Adams, doubtful whether he in- 
tended to remain or not. 

The doctor took the hint, not much enlightened as to 
the terms upon which they stood. 

McLeod, after an imperceptible pause, asked her about 
her stories. 

Christina wondered how much he knew and remem- 
bered. Did he wish her to ignore all that had happened, 
and talk to him as if this were an ordinary meeting? It 
would he very unlike McLeod if he was trying to show her 
that in coming to see him she had taken a false step. 

She tried to follow his lead, and found herself answer- 
ing vaguely and at random. 

Every now and then a short silence fell between 
them. 

It was always her fault; McLeod talked quietly and 
naturally. He talked, fighting at every word with a selfish 
temptation which threatened to become too strong for 
him; if he gave in, he told himself he should be a brute, 
and if he did not keep himself well in hand, he would 
give in. 

Christina was only thinking of how utterly their last 
meeting was being wasted. She could not go, she could 
not, without at least telling him how she felt for him. 

She interrupted him recklessly in the middle of a wise 
sentence anent publishers. 

I can’t sit here and talk to you as if we had just been 
introduced at a dance! It is all so terrible — so heart-break- 
ing.” 

The forced endurance in McLeod’s expression was 
shaken a very little. 

There is not much good talking about it,” he said, 
“ and you have had quite enough bother with my concerns. 
I don’t think much of a man who howls when he is hurt, 
especially when he knew he was going to be hurt.” 

But it is the not speaking that I can’t bear,” Chris- 
tina went on, heedlessly. Is there nothing I can do ? Is 
there nothing, however small, that might be an — allevia- 
tion ? ” She had checked herself on the point of using the 
word comfort.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


291 


Don’t tempt me! ” said McLeod, with a sudden stern-?** 
ness in his voice. 

He got up from his chair, moving impatiently into a 
position where she could not see his face. 

Just then the orderly looked in. He only gave a watch- 
ful glance round the room and at once withdrew, but the 
sound of the door made both McLeod and Christina look 
round, and by a mutual impulse their eyes met. 

“ Are you sorry for me? ” said McLeod. 

Christina said nothing; she looked at him with eyes 
misty with tears that hurt. 

He broke a short silence, speaking with his ordinary, 
half-drawled deliberation. 

‘^Will you,” he began, hesitating a little — would it 
worry you to tell me all about it? I remember, hut I can’t 
feel sure.” 

He had not given in and acknowledged himself as a 
coward yet. 

Christina told him something, an outline of what had 
happened, softening it in the telling as well as she could, 
and hesitating somewhat over the story of their drive. 
How much did he remember? 

Did he remember how he had spoken to her? 

He at least showed no inclination to repeat himself. 
He listened gravely to all she told him, occasionally in- 
terposing with a brief question if she paused. She had 
dreaded an inquiry about Hur-el-din, hut his very silence 
about him led her to think ihat he must remember some- 
thing. 

When she had finished he drew a long breath. 

Well,” he said, “ now that the end has come, all that 
is left is to he thankful that it is no worse — for other peo- 
ple.” 

The end ? ” Christina repeated, in a low voice. 

McLeod had meant to he utterly reticent with her as 
he had been with others, hut the complete sympathy and 
understanding in her voice unnerved him. Unexpectedly 
to himself as well as to Christina, his fierce reserve broke 
down. 

He turned upon her with sudden vehemence. 

The end? Ho, God knows it is not the end! I may 


292 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


live years — do you understand — years. Shut up like a rat 
in a cage — a sane man among madmen! I am sane now — 
am I not?^^ he ended, with a sudden anxiety. 

Yes, yes.’’ 

“ But I can never he sure of myself — I can never be a 
free man again. My God, I can’t bear it! — it is more than 
any man should have to bear.” 

He spoke in a suppressed voice, controlling his tone 
more by instinct than with any clear remembrance of the 
man outside. 

If there was any mercy in this world or the next^ when 
we were upset on the Sliema road, I should have been 
thrown with my head against a stone, and killed! ” 

I wish you had been! ” Christina said, with her 
whole heart in her words. I prayed that you might 
die.” 

You did? ” said McLeod, with energy. You under- 
stand that I have fought till the last — as you said? I con- 
fess to you that I am a coward. I haven’t pluck to face 
the rest of my — existence.” 

There were no words of comfort to say to him. Chris- 
tina rose and went over to where he stood by the window, 
and she touched his hand lightly with hers. Hot all Mc- 
Leod’s strength had ever moved her towards him as his 
weakness moved her. Everything else in the world seemed 
blotted out by his suffering, and of small account. She 
would willingly, even gladly, have taken his burden upon 
her to let him go free. 

It was pity, exalted to a passion, and perhaps it was 
something more. It may be that at that moment she 
reached the highest willingness of self-sacrifice in her life. 
But she had not raised McLeod with her. 

There had been a struggle — a temptation with which 
he had been fighting his hardest, but with the passion of 
sympathy in her eyes it proved too strong for him. 

“ Will you help me? ” he said. 

There was no mistaking the joy of readiness which 
flashed into her face. 

You Tcnow,’^ she said, softly. 

“ I am a selfish brute,” said McLeod, heavily. 

They were standing close together, but drew apart 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


293 


almost by instinct, as for the third time the orderly 
glanced in. 

The sight of him decided McLeod. 

It is not an easy thing that I am going to ask you,’’ 
he said. 

Christina made no protestations, and she was trembling 
a little, but he saw that she drew herself up resolutely. 
She felt that what he was going to ask would not be easy. 

You said once that if the time came when there was 
no hope, you w^ould not blame me if I ended everything,” 
McLeod began. 

Christina bowed her head. 

You have told me you prayed that I might die. Will 
you help me? ” 

She did not exclaim or even change colour. She walked 
to a chair and sat down, finding for a moment a difficulty 
in drawing her breath. 

He went on, speaking hurriedly and low. 

only ask you for the means — -the power. If there 
was one soul in the world to whom my dragging out my life 
would bring benefit or pleasure, I hope I should be man 
enough to try. If it is a sin — if the God who made me and 
then cursed me will not forgive me for such a sin — I know 
this, that I would rather live in hell than with such a 
fiend! ” 

His voice ceased, and there was a long silence. He had 
said all that there was to say, and more words were useless. 
He waited for Christina’s decision. 

Once or twice she tried to speak, but she was breathless 
and dry-lipped, and when the words came at last the voice 
did hot sound like her own. 

“What shall I do?” 

McLeod had been standing with his face half turned 
away; now he faced her and moved to her side, stopping 
to raise her hand quietly and touch it lightly with his lips. 
Such a demonstration of feeling from him was equivalent 
to much more from another man. 

He did not put his thanks into words. 

Then he sat down, and explained what he wanted her 
to do in a few commonplace sentences. They both said 
little and were strictly practical in their words, and when 


294 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


he had explained, and Christina without protest had ac- 
cepted the task he gave her, neither of them felt that there 
was anything more to he said. 

She rose, and they stood silently face to face. 

It was their last meeting in this world, as they both well 
knew. 

Christina looked long in McLeod’s face. She wanted 
to remember it. 

To him, who had parted with everything in life except 
the mere living, it was perhaps less hard. 

Good-by,” said Christina. 

He would have liked to ask her about her future — about 
her husband and what her life was to he — hut the thought 
of the thing she had promised to do for him stopped him. 
As the one selfish act of an unselfish man it seemed to blot 
out everything, and condemn as mockery any interest he 
might show in her life. 

Good-by,” he said, and restrained the instinct to add 
God bless you.” 

Then Christina turned away and left him. 

In her blind haste along the passage she almost ran 
against Sergeant Malcolm, who had been waiting for nearly 
an hour to try and get a new opinion, in which there might 
he hope, about his captain. 

Malcolm was white and shaky, and he had one empty 
sleeve, hut the worst part of his troubles was over, and he 
was to go home in the next trooper. 

He had half raised his left hand for a respectful salute 
when the unseeing despair in Christina’s eyes checked him. 
She was not looking at him or thinking of him — only hurry- 
ing blindly on to leave this dreadful place behind her. Mal- 
colm drew hack, with his unasked question only too thor- 
oughly answered. 

Just outside the hospital gates, Christina met Camp- 
bell riding slowly along, and he pulled up at once and 
jumped down to speak to her. 

Have you been to see poor McLeod? ” he said. 

Christina had not noticed him until he spoke, and she 
started and tried to collect her scattered wits. He was the 
very man to he of use to her now. There was obviously 
no struggling against fate or chance or whatever it might 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


295 


be that was leaving her no excuce for failing in her 
promise. 

As she said nothing, Campbell went on, his usually 
cheerful voice very sober. 

I am going to the hospital to-morrow morning, and 
taking Jinks with me. The poor little brute is starving 
and fretting himself to death.” 

Christina was conscious of a regret that she had not 
made more of Jinks. 

The other two dogs are quite happy, selfish beasts! 
They are living on the fat of the land, for the men are one 
keener than another to look after them.” 

Christina turned upon him suddenly and undeservedly. 

‘‘Why should the dogs be abused?” she said; “none 
of the men who knew him think it necessarv to starve or 
fret.” 

Campbell stared at her, and his amazed face brought 
her back to realities. 

“I beg your pardon. Heroics are more than ridicu- 
lous.” 

“ You needn’t imagine,” said Campbell, in a hurt tone, 
“ that any of our fellows don’t care. I don’t see that you 
have any right to consider me a heartless brute because I 
take out my pony instead of letting him stand in the stable. 
If there was any mortal thing to do for McLeod, I’d do it 
— any of us would; but men must live.” 

But would Campbell — would any of them — do what she 
had promised to do? 

Campbell was at all times a peppery young man, and 
now he was direly offended, and Christina would have found 
it hard to make her peace, even had she thought it worth 
while to try. But she remembered the part she had to play, 
and checked him as he was about to ride away with a stiff 
salutation. 

If he was going to see McLeod to-morrow would he be 
so good as to take him a parcel from her — a book. Chris- 
tina was unnecessarily explanatory, but, knowing what she 
had in her mind, it seemed to her that' Campbell might 
easily be suspicious. 

He assented, of course, but rather coldly. 

“D — n it all! what did she mean by speaking like 


296 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


that?^’ he meditated, as he rode away. it possible 

that Grant has been making himself objectionable? — and I 
thought he was behaving so decently.^^ 

But Christina had meant nothing. She had only spoken 
out of the bitterness of her heart. 

A little farther on she met half a dozen 79th men in 
their white jackets and trews, and she hurried past them 
with a ridiculous instinct that if they looked at her they 
must guess what she had promised to do. 

Just outside the Porte Reale she was passed by a carrozze 
full of officers, and a couple of them, who were Camerons, 
she knew. They had been to the Marsa, probably playing 
polo — why not? Life must go on as usual, even in Mc- 
Leod’s own regiment. 

She imagined they looked at her curiously as they raised 
their straw hats. She could have shrieked out her secret. 
Was it possible that with such a thing in her heart there 
was no outward change? 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Cheistixa stood on the deck of a P. and 0. steamer, 
and watched Malta gradually fading into the distance. 

She had not loved the place, and with all her strength 
she hoped she would never see it again; hut, as it grew 
more and more indistinct, it seemed as if it were a piece 
of her life left behind. 

She could not see Yaletta now, or distinguish one point 
of the island from another; later there was nothing left 
hut a dark blur on the blue water, and soon that, too, was 
hidden from sight. 

Christina leaned over the side, looking out long after 
there was nothing to be seen. 

What had she done? Something that could never he 
undone in this world. 

It was too late for regret now. Between her and Malta 
lay miles of sea. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


297 


Would the ship put back even to save a man’s life? she 
wondered, vaguely interested in her speculations as to what 
the captain would do if she were to tell him. 

By this time perhaps it was all over. Even now, Mc- 
Leod, it might he, was a dead man. Dead? It was almost 
a mere word to her. She could not realize the possibility 
of death for him of all men. 

She had kept her promise to him, at what a cost she 
hardly knew yet. And until now she had had no doubt 
that to him she had acted mercifully. 

But now, as she stood by herself, unheedingly apart 
from the various groups who walked the deck, and sat 
about in the afternoon sunshine, the first doubts began 
to assail her. 

Had she done the best thing for him? Had she done 
well in helping him to take his fate into his own hands. 

Might he not perhaps have recovered? 

How was it she had felt so sure — so very sure — until 
now? 

It was worse, far worse, than useless to let these thoughts 
come when it was too late. 

Christina looked round desperately, but there was no 
help for her from outside. Nobody was paying any atten- 
tion to her; why should they? Even the half dozen pas- 
sengers who had gone on board with her at Malta were 
strangers to her. 

She tried to think of something else. She had her own 
plans to make. At least George would not want a murderess 
to live with him as his wife. She had always heard mor- 
phia was a very painless death — not cruel, like strychnine. 
She had seen a dog die of strychnine once — her own old 
dog, who had grown too old and blind to live. How angry 
she had been at the cruelty of such a death. Morphia would 
have been better; blit nobody gave dogs morphia — of 
course not. 

She had her own money. She could go to London, and 
live there by herself and write. She would never, never 
see any one she had known before. 

How the ship rocked and her head ached, and how giddy 
she felt! 

The group of Malta people — several officers and their 


298 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


wives — was in a sheltered corner, fairly close to where 
she stood, and, with an instinct of desire for human com- 
panionship, she made her way to a chair close beside 
them. 

They all looked very happy and comfortable, and they 
were rejoicing over having left Malta behind them, 
and talking of what they were going to do when they got 
home. 

Chistina did not listen to them till all at once she caught 
McLeod’s name. 

It is the saddest thing I have heard for a long time,” 
said one man, an old artillery colonel. Such a steady 
man, and such a good soldier! ” 

I have dined with him often enough both at the club 
and at mess,” said a younger man. “ He got on awfully 
well with all the fellows in the regiment, except perhaps 
that handsome chap. Grant. I have an idea they had some 
row or another, hut, however that may be. Grant was awfully 
cut up about it.” 

I never knew but one of the regiment,” said another 
man — “ a chap called Campbell. Hot a bad sort at all, but 
he lifts his little finger a bit, you know.” 

“ Well, there’ll be a step going. It’s a great regiment 
for promotion. I believe one of the captains shot himself 
just before they came out here.” 

Christina had no hesitation about listening. She had 
not thought about it at all, but, indeed, the speakers in no 
wise considered their conversation private. 

The old artillery colonel spoke next. 

I wouldn’t be too sure about the step,” he said. Mc- 
Leod may recover.” 

There’s no chance of that, surely? ” said one lady. 

The old colonel shook his head wisely. He knew noth- 
ing about it, but he liked always to have a theory of his 
own. 

I don’t know about that. You see, he hasn’t muddled 
his brain with drinking. On the whole, I don’t see why he 
shouldn’t have an excellent chance of recovery — an excel- 
lent chance.” 

Christina suddenly sprang up, and faced him with 
flashing eyes. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


299 


You didn’t say that? I must have heard you wrong! 
You didn’t mean that it was possible — tell me you didn’t! ” 

The whole party were immensely startled, and the colo- 
nel was absolutely scared. 

He would have said anything this alarming person de- 
sired, hut it was not unnatural that he entirely mistook 
her desires. 

My dear madam, I see no reason why we should not 
hope. Really 

Christina suddenly swayed forward, and fainted quietly 
away at his feet. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Chkistina carried out none of her half-formed plans. 
They were all upset by a piece of information which the 
ship doctor gave her just before they reached Gibraltar — 
a piece of information which came to her as the most ex- 
traordinary, unexpected thing in the world. 

She had been very ill for the first few days, too phys- 
ically sick and miserable even for thought, and one morn- 
ing, when she was feeling very weak and faint, she had 
turned to the doctor and asked him if she was going to die, 
and he had laughed a little and said he hoped there was 
no danger of that, and then he had told her his wonderful 
news. She was going to have a baby! 

Perhaps it was not so very extraordinary or unprece- 
dented, after all, hut to Christina it came like a thunder- 
clap. 

She repelled the idea at first with feverish excitement, 
hut it did her good all the same. It awakened her from the 
blank despair which was settling down upon her, and dis- 
puted possession of her mind with thoughts of McLeod. 

She believed it made her still more unhappy, but it at 
least gave her something to think of and wonder about. 

George did not come to meet the ship in London. He 
could not have got leave in time, and, in any case he 


300 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


would have looked upon such a journey as a useless ex- 
pense. 

But he was on the station at Manchester, waiting for 
her with a radiant face, and half an inch of bristle on his 
chin, denoting the first steps of a new beard. 

‘^Dearest old child, how glad I am to see you! I as- 
sure you I have been counting the days. Is your luggage 
all right? Had you a pleasant voyage? Are you pleased 
to see me again, little woman ? 

What would he have said if she had told him how very 
narrowly he had escaped never seeing her again? 

He was as fussy and as good-naturedly self-important 
as ever. He kissed Christina with flattering energy, and 
then hurried her off to a cab, and hustled away to look after 
her luggage. 

He wasn’t changed in the least — it was perhaps hardly 
to he expected that he should he in a fortnight — while she 
felt herself quite another person. 

In the cah he had much to say. 

“ The mother is looking out for you anxiously, and Kate 
wanted to come to the station, hut I thought I would rather 
have you all to myself. You don’t look a hit hearty, old 
child; travelling doesn’t suit you. Give me another kiss, 
and say you are glad to see me.” 

Christina said it, not very unwillingly. She was look- 
ing at George in a new light, and she found herself 
giving him curious, not unfriendly glances every time they 
passed a lamp-post. His importance to her had so im- 
mensely increased. 

The other half of her mind was full of a dread that he 
would speak of McLeod — that he would tell her what by 
this time must he in the papers. Then she must pretend 
astonishment, and ask questions, and marvel with George 
how McLeod had got the poison, lest people should sus- 
pect. She must talk of McLeod as if he were nothing to her. 

She had no time, in struggling with these separate trains 
of thought and trying to talk to George brightly and cheer- 
fully, to give way to misgivings about his people till they 
had absolutely come to the end of their drive. Besides, 
what did anything matter now? What would it have mat- 
tered had they been Choctaw Indians in paint and feathers? 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


301 


N’evertheless when the cab stopped, she had a moment 
of dismay. 

* She had carefully and wisely timed her arrival for the 
evening, and it was now nearly eight o’clock and quite 
dark. She could see nothing when they stopped, except 
that the house was small and just on the street, with iron 
railings and steps. 

Here we are, old child, at home,” said George. He 
helped her out tenderly and proudly. She looked very 
pretty now that a little unusual colour had come into her 
pale cheeks. 

^^By Jove! won’t they be excited when they hear the 
hell! ” said George, proceeding to ring it vigorously. 

In another moment they were in the hall, and he was 
calling loudly for “ Kate ” and Maggie.” 

At first, coming in from the darkness, Christina was 
aware of little except the sound of two loud and friendly 
voices with strong accents. When her eyes got more ac- 
customed to the light, she was able to distinguish them, 
and see that they were both tall, big girls, one plain and 
the other rather pretty, both with exaggerated buns of hair 
and large fringes. 

Here she is! Kitty, this is Kate and this is Maggie. 
Take her in to the mother, girls. Is she in the drawing 
room? ” 

George is always in such a hurry,” said the pretty one, 
rather affectedly; we haven’t half welcomed Kitty yet.” 

Christina started at the use of her Christian name, but 
then she remembered it was natural. 

They meant to be very kind. 

They hurried her in to their mother, all three eagerly, 
and George with an obvious pride in everybody which was 
not unpleasing. 

Mrs. Stoddart greeted her affectionately. 

You are heartily welcome, my dear. I am indeed 
glad to see you,” she said. Then she drew the girl to her 
and kissed her warmly. 

She was a little old woman — quite a pretty little old 
woman — with white hair brushed tidily away under a sub- 
stantial and unpretentious cap, and a black cashmere dress, 
with a white shawl over her shoulders. Christina liked her 
20 


302 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


appearance much better than that of her daughters, who 
wore red dresses trimmed with glaringly cheap satin and 
with rather dirty frilling at the neck, fastened with brooches 
obviously gilt. 

“ You must he perished,’^ said Mrs. Stoddart ; draw 
the armchair to the fire, George. You must know that these 
children of mine are too fond of coddling their old mother, 
and they wouldn’t let me go out into the hall to meet you 
because I have a touch of bronchitis.” 

I am so glad you didn’t,” said Christina; it’s a cold 
night, and George and I brought in a regular blast with us.” 

She wished George would go out and see about her 
luggage, which she could hear arriving in the hall with a 
series of jerks and shocks. 

Providentially they had left most of it behind them at 
the station; hut, even as it was, she did not see how the 
two boxes and the hold-all she had brought were to get 
upstairs, or who was to take them. 

However, George was far too happy to trouble about 
boxes. He did not rest till he had established himself in 
the middle of a group in front of the fire, and could look 
proudly round on his family, with exuberant expressions 
of satisfaction. 

Now, George,” said Kate, the pretty sister, you will 
be happy at last. It has been Kitty this and Ehtty that 
ever since he arrived yesterday.” 

“ You may well talk, miss! ” said George, laughing de- 
lightedly. 

Upon which there was much giggling and embarrass- 
ment on Kate’s part, and George insisted upon making her 
show her face, and calling everybody to witness that she 
was blushing. 

Then a tray was brought in by the maid, who bore the 
stamp of a general servant all over her, and Christina was 
regaled on chicken and ham and tea. 

They talked of Malta. The sisters were extremely anx- 
ious to hear all about it, especially the pretty one, who 
seemed to think she would have enjoyed a winter there very 
much. She showed considerable interest in the officers,” 
and began a playful quarrel with George by announcing 
her preference for the military ” over the navy. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


303 


But George never mentioned McLeod. Surely it would 
have been only natural that he should. His silence had 
been a relief at first, but now the suspense was becoming 
unbearable. Once or twice Christina worked up her cour- 
age to bring in his name carelessly and indifferently, as if 
she knew nothing, but each time she had almost succeeded 
somebody else started a fresh subject. 

It was a long hour and a half before any move was 
made. 

They sat and talked, and after a time they talked some- 
times of things and people Christina knew nothing about. 
But Kate followed every sentence with a furtive glance at 
her sister-in-law’s face, to see what impression it made upon 
her. 

Christina was vaguely conscious of this, just as she was 
vaguely conscious of what was going on round her. She 
felt in a dream still, as she had felt for the last week or two, 
and what these dream people said and did only touched 
the outside of her mind. She spoke and answered me- 
chanically. 

George sat very close to her, and was perfectly happy. 
He even once, in the intimacy of the family circle, tried to 
put his arm round her waist, but this was more than she 
could endure, and she promptly moved her chair. 

It was an immense relief when one of the sisters sug- 
gested that possibly she might be glad, after her tiring 
journey, to go to bed. 

Kate it was who took upon herself to make an apology 
for the house, affecting a laugh, and colouring a little as 
she spoke. 

“ I am afraid you will fipd this house very small after 
what you have been accustomed to,” she said, and I am 
so sorry we can’t give George a dressing room. You see, 
when we are alone we don’t need anything but a small 
house ” 

And, my dear, we can’t afford anything but a small 
house,” Mrs. Stoddart interrupted. 

Our fiat wasn’t very gigantic at Malta, was it? ” said 
Christina, turning to George. ' 

Well, girls, will you show her our room, and I’ll go 
and smoke in the dining-room,” he said. 


304 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


If Mrs. Stoddart doesn’t mind?” said Christina. 

“ Mrs. Stoddart! Did I ever hear such nonsense! She’s 
to call yon ^mother/ isn’t she, mother?” said George, 
quickly. 

Christina coloured a little. 

She shall call me just whatever slie likes,” Mrs. Stod- 
dart said. “ But I daresay she would rather wait for any- 
thing of that kind till she knows me a little better. George 
is always in a hurry.” 

Christina felt herself ungracious, hut she said nothing. 
The word mother ” had no particular associations for her, 
but she at all times disliked to be rushed into intimacies, 
and felt not at all inclined to say that George’s people 
should be her people. 

She kissed Mrs. Stoddart when she said good-night, 
and thanked her for her welcome, and then she considered 
that for the present she had done enough. 

It had been just what she expected, entirely what she 
expected, neither better nor worse. 

She had only got as far as her dressing gown when 
George came up. 

She had lingered, too tired to be sleepy or able to rest. 
She had unpacked her things for the night, and then she 
had inspected with a certain curiosity the square little 
room, with its threadbare carpet, and the dressing-table, 
which had a suspicious appearance of being draped in an 
old muslin dress belonging to one of the family. She even 
read the framed texts on the walls, and severally studied 
the pencil drawings of fruit and flowers, and little cottages 
with water barrels at the side and stiff little men in the 
foreground. Then she opened the window, and did not 
altogether dislike the increased noise of the street which 
followed. When George came up he found her engrossed 
with the shells and vases and crystal-dropped candlesticks 
on the mantelpiece. 

^^Not in bed yet?” he said — why, Kitty, what have 
you been doing? What did you think of mother and the 
girls? I have been dying to see you alone.” 

His face was beaming; he was very happy, indeed, and 
very proud. 

Christina wanted to say something pleasant. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


305 


They were very kind/^ she said. And Kate is a 
pretty girl.^^ 

She is, indeed,” said George, and a clever girl, too. 
I must make her show you all the prizes she has got. 
And you know she is engaged to the Rev. Charles 
Smithson.” 

Christina was too tired to make much effort for interest. 

“ George dear,” she said, you can’t think how dead 
I am. Do go down and smoke again, and I shall he in bed 
in ten minutes.” 

But you must shut the window,” said George. No- 
body could sleep in such a noise.” 

Christina meekly subsided into a chair; that would 
mean partial suffocation, hut she had not energy enough 
to dispute the point. 

At the door George hesitated. Christina, in her chair 
and with her back turned, had been trying to screw up her 
courage to a question about McLeod, when George suddenly 
came back to the fireplace and spoke his name. 

I say, Kitty, did you see that terrible news in the paper 
about your friend McLeod ? ” 

Christina’s breath suddenly failed. Had she hoped? 
Not consciously, but it had counted as something that until 
now there had always been a chance. 

“ What? ” 

He has committed suicide, poor fellow. It is dread- 
fully sad ” 

^^How awful!” said Christina, mechanically. She 
knew George was watching her, and with a remnant of 
his old jealousy was wondering how she would take the 
news, but she could not help it if he thought her strangely 
cold. 

But George’s nature was too practical to leave room for 
any real jealousy of a dead man. 

He spoke very kindly. 

I am dreadfully sorry, old child. He was a very sound 
chap, and a friend of yours. It must be an awful shock, 
and I was an ass to blurt it out.” 

For one moment it was in Christina’s mind to tell him 
everything, and throw herself on his mercy and understand- 
ing, and who can say whether it would have been well or 


306 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


ill had she done so? But it was only the impulse of a mo- 
ment. 

“ Oh, don’t talk to me about it! ” she said. She did 
not know or wonder or even think what her way of taking 
it might appear to George. 

She only felt that to ask questions and show the shocked 
interest of an ordinary friend was absolutely impossible to 
her just then, and that if he did not leave her alone, she 
must in some way betray herself. 

When he was gone she walked over to the bed, and laid 
herself on it, crushing her face into the pillows, and trying 
to crush out all sight and sound and memory. 


CHAPTER X. 

The Stoddart family, mother and daughters, were all 
down in the dining room in excellent time next morning. 
The girls laid the table themselves, and Maggie cooked the 
chops which were to appear in honour of their guests. 

The little servant was busy in the lodger’s room; after 
she had done, she was to tidy herself and bring in the chops. 
The Stoddarts kept one lodger, a clerk in a mill, who had 
overflowed from a hoarding house next door, where he had 
his meals. He was a very superior young man, and they 
always spoke of him as a paying guest.” 

Mrs. Stoddart sat in her chair by the Are; her hands 
were crippled with rheumatism, so there was not much she 
could do. 

Kate, as she bustled about, laying out a few precious 
ornaments and one or two valued antimacassars, had her 
frizzy head full of thoughts. What would Christina think 
of- the room, and when she found they had only one serv- 
ant? 

These were sore points with Kate, and had caused her 
acute suffering many a time and oft. 

Almost all the people the Stoddarts knew were rich, 
or at least well to do, and she had often had reason to 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


307 


realize their defects in this way. It was with many an 
effort that they kept a place in their circle of friends and 
relations. Christina’s arrival would decidedly add to their 
importance. 

Kate meditated over the earliest moment possible for 
impressing their friends with their sister-in-law, and their 
sister-in-law with the wealth and superiority of their 
friends. 

It’s a blessing to-day is Sunday,” she said; it won’t 
he so hard to know what to do with George’s wife. There’ll 
be church in the morning and evening, and if we get very 
hard put to it, we could take her in the afternoon, too, and 
between whiles we can show her the town. And to-morrow 
we might take her over to the Sandfords’.” 

You’ll have to take her, then,” said Maggie; I shan’t 
have time.” 

“Maybe neither will I. You think nobody has any- 
thing to do but yourself, and I have the house and the mar- 
keting, and the extra cooking now ” 

“ She won’t expect you to be walking after her all day 
long, girls,” Mrs. Stoddart interposed; “ there’s George to 
take her out, and I am sure she will understand you have 
your own work to attend to.” 

Kate went round the table, and straightened the knives 
in discontented jerks. 

“ And finely a stuck-up' lady like that will look down 
on us when she sees we have got to work,” she said; “ she 
won’t like the shop, I can tell you that.” 

“ She’ll be like yourself there, Katie,” said Maggie, 
laughing good-humouredly. 

“ We’d have done badly without the shop,” said Mrs. 
Stoddart; “and if she doesn’t like it, there’s no reason 
why she should ever go near it. But, girls, I don’t see any 
airs about her; she’s just as simple to my thinking as you 
or me. Don’t be taking fancies into your heads.” 

“ For my part, I don’t see much difference between the 
daughter of a lord and the daughter of any other body,” 
said Kate. “ I don’t see that she dresses a bit better, or as 
well, for that matter, as Dora Sandford or Mrs. Williams; 
and the way she does her hair is out this long time. I won- 
der what Charles will think of her.” 


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Of course that is your chief concern/’ said Maggie, 
with jocular intent. 

Kate came to kneel beside her mother and poke the 
fire. She was a pretty girl, in spite of her touzled hair and 
her ill-made dress, and she was the pet and admiration of 
her family. 

For Kate everything must he of the best, and for Kate 
Maggie constantly and willingly went to the wall. And 
Kate, though on the whole a good girl and a good dpgh- 
ter and sister, was sometimes inclined to be discon- 
tented. 

I wonder,” she said, what dress she will wear this 
morning. I suppose she has dozens; hut they can’t he the 
very last thing, as she has been away from England so long. 
I wouldn’t wonder if she had got every dress in London,” 
Kate ended with a sigh. 

I don’t care if she has,” said Maggie, loyally. I 
know somebody who looks prettier than she does, whatever 
she wears.” 

But Kate shook her head. She had an instinct. 

I wish,” she said, we had put on our old blues yester- 
day evening, after all. She will think it so odd to see us 
wearing the same dresses as we did then.” 

“ She must just take us as she finds us,” said Maggie; 
whatever we did at the beginning, she’d know all about 
us in a week.” Then she added a hasty Get up! get up, 
Kate! I hear somebody coming,” which belied her wise 
words. 

It was a false alarm. Kate jumped to her feet, and 
shook down her dress, which she had prudently tucked 
above her knees; but nobody appeared except the little 
maid, who tapped at the door, and asked if she should ring 
the bell, for the chops were done. 

Kate looked down at her dress despairingly. Did you 
ever see anything like the way this hangs? ” she said. It’s 
short in one place and long in the other. Yours is better, 
Maggie, but mine is just awful! ” 

Well, you would have the skirt cut the new shape, and 
the woman didn’t know how,” said Maggie; and I was 
content with the way she was accustomed to. Don’t go 
whisking about that way, Kate; sit down, and keep sitting 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


309 


as much as you can, and then it looks all right. I am sure 
I hear somebody coming.” 

It was not a false alarm this time. Christina came in 
a moment later, quite unconscious that she had been dis- 
cussed. George’s family were to her so completely uninter- 
esting that it did not occur to her that it might he different 
with them. She looked much more tired than the even- 
ing before; the usual want of colour in her cheeks was ex- 
aggerated into a dead white, her very lips were colourless, 
and there were dark lines under her eyes. 

When George came down they had prayers, and then 
came breakfast, after which Christina was taken to the 
drawing room and left to talk to Mrs. Stoddart till it was 
time for church. 

As a rule, the family frequented on Sundays the little 
Methodist meeting-house where the Rev. Charles Smithson 
held sway, but, from a vague idea of its aristocratic supe- 
riority, Christina was taken to an Episcopalian Church. 
Then came a midday dinner and more tailing round the 
fire, in the middle of which Christina managed to steal up- 
stairs to her room. 

Would it ever he possible to be alone here, or to have 
an hour to herself? 

There did not seem to be much prospect of it, for, ten 
minutes later, Maggie appeared in answer to a summons 
to come in, and with the best intentions in the world that 
Christina should not feel dull or lonely. 

Won’t you come down? ” she said. Tea is just com- 
ing up, and Charles is here.” 

Who is Charles? ” said Christina. 

Maggie looked a little shocked and hurt at her igno- 
rance. 

Haven’t you heard about Charles?” she said; ^^he 
is the gentleman Kate is engaged to. He is a clergyman, 
and he has only got a small church ag yet; but Kate and I 
think it is a very nice one, and he has taken so much trou- 
ble with it, and he has put up a lovely tablet to his wives 
over the pulpit.” 

His wives?” said Christina, a little bewildered. 

He has been married, you know, before, twice,” Mag- 
gie explained. ^‘1 don’t know that I should like it, but 


310 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Kate doesn’t mind. And it certainly is a lovely tablet, with 
room left for himself; of course, Kate will have to go in 
too, hut they can manage that by leaving out the text he 
intended to put at the end.” 

“ Oh,” said Christina, I understand.” 

Everybody thinks so much of Charles,” pursued Mag- 
gie. “ We don’t approve of Sunday visitors as a rule, but, 
of course, he is different. He and Kate are just suited for 
each other. Kate is very clever, you know. She went in 
for ever so many prizes at the High School; most of those 
books in the drawing room are hers; I daresay you noticed 
them?” 

Christina was inclined to wish that the Stoddarts as a 
family were not quite so much attached to each other. 

Won’t you come down? ” said Maggie; “ you are not 
shy, are you? I used always to be frightened of Charles 
till we got to know him so well. He is so very good and so 
very particular.” 

Christina laughed out in spite of herself. She thought 
her courage would be equal to the encounter of a Methodist 
clergyman who was engaged to Kate Stoddart. 

They went downstairs together, Maggie full of admira- 
tion of her guest’s intrepidity. 

Charles ” was sitting on the sofa beside his fiancee, 
with a decorous width of chintz between them. 

He was a stout, flabby man, with a black moustache and 
whiskers, and a carefully oiled head of straight black hair. 

He rose and came forward to greSt Christina in deliber- 
ate, unctuous tones. 

I am so glad to welcome you to our midst,” he said. 

How do you do ? ” said Christina. 

She had already noted that his coat was greasy and that 
his nails were black, while a general air of uncleanliness 
hung over him. But Kate looked upon him proudly. 

I trust, Mrs. Stoddart, you are not fatigued after your 
journey? ” 

Kate broke in in playful remonstrance. 

“ Oh, Charles, no ceremony in a family party. You are 
almost brother and sister! ” 

In spite of all she could do, Christina knew that she 
shuddered visibly. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


311 


But it was quite right. Why should not this creature 
call her by her Christian name? 

shall he only too happy if Mrs. Stoddart will so 
favour me,” he said, and, in spite of her misery, Christina 
felt impelled to wild laughter. But then she remembered 
George, and knew she must not disgrace herself before her 
new relations. 

They all went for a walk to exhibit the sights of Man- 
chester to Christina. She found it a very dreary enter- 
tainment; they went through streets of shuttered shops, 
and the conversation was restricted to a level of decorous 
Sunday gloom. Charles^ ” church was kept to the last 
that it might create a due impression, and Christina was 
reduced to he absolutely thankful for the tablet to “ Eliza- 
beth ” and “ Jane Emily,” each the beloved wife of the 
Reverend Charles Joseph Smithson,” in that it gave some- 
thing to remark about, and was the sole attempt to f urnish 
the absolute bareness round. 

On the way home they met many of the fashionable of 
Manchester returning from afternoon church, and Christina 
was introduced to various gorgeously clad ladies and gentle- 
men, who greeted George with the fervour of old acquaint- 
ance, and welcomed his wife to Manchester with out- 
stretched hands and strong accents. 

Christina tried for one instant to fancy the feelings of 
her father and mother could they see her now; hut imagina- 
tion has its limits, and such a picture was too inconceiv- 
able. 

She knew everybody meant to he kind, and she did her 
best to he pleasant in return, but it was unconsciously after 
the fashion in which she would have talked politely to the 
shopgirl who sold her ribbons or the coachman who drove 
her carriage, in the old times, and not as a young wife greet- 
ing her husband’s friends. 

When they talked to her in return as upon a level of 
equality, she felt herself stiffening instinctively. 

On the whole, she preferred George’s family to their 
friends, and after late tea that evening, when Kate and the 
Rev. Charles had been dismissed to the dining room upon 
plausible excuses, she found Mrs. Stoddart and Maggie 
natural and pleasant. 


312 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


They talked freely of their poverty, of their struggles, 
and later on of the shop, introducing that part of the sub- 
ject with a certain hesitation, and relieved by the matter- 
of-fact way in which Christina accepted it. 

It was not very successful, the shop. Mrs. Stoddart, 
with her weak lungs and her rheumatic fingers, was not 
able to do much more than to keep the hooks, and Charles 
did not like Kate to have anything to say to it, so since her 
engagement Maggie had been obliged to give up her situa- 
tion in the post office, which she had liked, and come home 
to superintend the millinery, which she detested. They 
were horrified at Christina^s suggestion, that while George 
and she were there she might be able to help. 

After Mr. Smithson had left, Mrs. Stoddart and Chris- 
tina were for a time alone together, while his sisters went 
with George to the dining room, where he smoked. 

Mrs. Stoddart approached the subject of Christina’s 
position in the family very simply and directly. 

I want you to understand, my dear, that we all know 
that this is not the kind of life nor are we the kind of people 
that you are accustomed to.” 

Christina was a little startled, and found it difficult to 
reply. It was no use denying that Mrs. Stoddart was right. 

Every one until now, including George, had persisted 
in ignoring anything unusual about her position, and Mrs. 
Stoddart’s words and the kindness of her voice touched 
her, as kindness always did. 

She knelt down on the rug, and laid her hand, with a 
kind of shy caress, upon the old woman’s knee. 

I am sure, if you will let me, I shall he very fond of 
you,” she said.” 

Well, hut you understand: George, dear hoy, loves us 
all so much that he sees nothing. I have done my best to 
give the girls a good education, but of course I know we 
are not in your class, my dear.” 

Don’t say any more,” said Christina; you make me 
feel I must have been behaving horridly.” 

You mustn’t feel that, then, for it would not he true. 
You have been behaving very sweetly and kindly. But I 
want you to remember that, though George may want you 
to stay on with us, none of us will be in the least offended 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


313 


if you don’t pay .us a long visit, though you are as welcome 
as sunshine for just as long as you will stay. But you will 
want to visit your own father and mother.” 

Mrs. Stoddart did not understand everything; she did 
not understand that the idea of bringing George into the 
presence of her father and mother was to Christina awful. 

And now, there is nothing more we need say about 
that. You know without my telling you what a dear boy 
George is. He’s the best son and the best brother, and so 
I am sure he is the best husband, in the world; though 
perhaps his mother should not say so.” 

He is very, very kind to me,” said Christina, feeling 
her words inadequate. 

Then Mrs. Stoddart began to tell her stories of George: 
of his goodness and his cleverness; how hard he had worked 
at school; how never in his life had he come to his mother 
with unpaid debts; how, when he had first got into the 
navy, he had pinched and screwed, and, his mother sus- 
pected, had suffered a good deal, that everything might go 
to his sisters. 

In the middle George himself came in, glowing with 
pleasure to see his mother and his wife on such good terms, 
and he summoned them to the dining room, where the 
mother read prayers, and afterwards they all went to bed. 

One day was over, and what a long day it had been! 
But what about the next and the next and the next? 


CHAPTER XI. 

The Cameron Highlanders: Lieutenant G. P. F. Mc- 
Ferran to be captain, vice the Hon. A. McLeod, deceased.” 

The paper slipped through Christina’s fingers, and rus- 
tled on to the fioor. 

George, who was smoking by the fire with his back half 
turned to her, moved round in his chair. 

What on earth is the matter, Kitty? You are as white 
as a sheet! ” he said, in a tone of dismay. 


314 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Nothing/’ said Christina, sharply. 

Nothing? AYith a face like that? Give me the paper, 
you goose, if you won’t tell me what it is.” 

It was by a most foolish instinct that she drew the paper 
away from his hand, and a moment after she had done so 
she knew it. 

George made up his mind to see it at once, and took it 
from her a little roughly, glancing down the sheet she 
had been reading till McLeod’s name caught his eye. 

Without that movement of Christina’s, it would have 
been nothing; as it was, he was annoyed. 

“ Is this what you were going to faint about ? ” he said. 

I wasn’t going to faint,” said Christina, irritably. I 
don’t think it is very surprising that it should startle me.” 

I must say I think it is,” said George, considering 
you know perfectly well the man is dead. ^ A nice exhibition 
you would have made of yourself if any one else had been 
here. What in the world could they have thought?” 

I don’t know in what way I made an exhibition of 
myself,” said Christina. But if any one had noticed an}^- 
thing, they would have thought that it is not pleasant to 

see a friend — a man one knew so well — a What do I 

care what anybody thinks, or what you think, for the matter 
of that! ” 

By way of proving how little she cared, she began an 
unsteady laugh, drew one or two short breaths, and burst 
out crying. 

George was in absolute consternation. Never in the 
whole course of his acquaintance with Christina had such 
a thing happened before. 

It must mean something dreadful. He must have 
spoken more harshly than he had known, or she must be 
ilk or — he would not give way to the last supposition. 

His utter dismay and perturbation made Christina 
laugh amid her sobs, which put the finishing touch to his 
alarm, and made it difficult for her to restrain him from 
rushing out for water and assistance. 

She hardly knew herself what was the matter with her 
or why she had so suddenly broken down, and the idea of 
having the family called in to console her, helped her to 
regain self-command better than anything else. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


315 


George was very penitent. 

‘‘ What did I say, darling? Dearest old child, I didn^t 
mean to be so cross. Of course, it was perfectly natural that 
you should be upset at seeing that in the paper. Poor fel- 
low! I am sure I am myself ” 

It was not possible that he could understand that to 
hear McLeod spoken of was absolute torture. 

But he could see that the subject was not a well chosen 
one just at present. 

“ You are a tender-hearted old child,” he said, talking 
to convince himself as well as Christina that there was no 
more in it than this, and I am a rough brute who knows 
nothing about women. But, darling, tell me, haven’t you 
been well lately? I won’t say another word if that is the 
reason; but you haven’t been quite nice to me lately, you 
know, or to my people, for the matter of that.” 

Christina had hidden her face against his shoulder, 
and he could not see the vivid flush with which she greeted 
his words. Tell him? She knew what telling him would 
mean: an uncontrolled delight, a fuss over every step she 
took and thing she did, and hints which would soon make 
what she had told him public property. 

That was all in the near future, but she would stave it 
off a little longer if she could. 

I wish, old child, you would try to be a little civiller 
to my people,” said George, immensely careful to speak 
gently now. 

Civil?” said Christina. George! am I not civil?” 

“ Well, civil is not the word, perhaps; friendly is what 
I mean, friendly and — affectionate.” 

“I’ll try, really,” said Christina, humbly. “I offered 
to help in the shop, and you wouldn’t let me.” 

“I should think not! And if I had, what use would 
you have been? No, I mean go up to the mother some- 
times and give her a kiss, and the girls — you and they ought 
to have any amount to gossip about, and there you are 
as formal as the first day you met; and especially with 
Kate.” 

“ How can I talk to Kate, George? All her confidences 
are about Mr. Smithson, and I really can’t abide Mr. Smith- 
son.” 


316 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


I don’t see why, I am sure/’ said G-eorge, reprovingly. 

He is a most good man, and very good-looking ” 

Good-looking! ” 

^‘Well, isn’t he? I thought all women admired black 
hair and that sort of thing. But, however,” George 
added, hastily, in answer to the expression of Christina’s 
face, not to talk of him, there are those cousins of ours, 
the Sandfords. You never even take the trouble of try- 
ing to talk to George Sandford, and he’s a very, good 
fellow, and he has been awfully kind to mother and the 
girls.’” 

Christina sighed; she had not been prepossessed by Mr. 
George Sandford’s voice and appearance. 

George had subsided into comfort, and a leisurely in- 
spection of his finger nails warned her, even before the ap- 
pearance of his knife, of what was coming, and put the 
climax to her feeling of nervous irritation. 

What is more. Kit,” he said, preparing for an opera- 
tion on his little finger, you must consider your husband’s 
interests. Sandford has thousands of pounds’ worth of 
machinery in his mills, and, if I decide to leave the navy, 
he might offer me something. I intend to give him a hint 
that I am thinking of it.” 

Christina assented, and sat still, looking straight before 
her into the fire. She was acutely conscious that George 
having finished one hand had begun upon the other, and it 
seemed to her that, provided he would stop, anything would 
be endurable. 

“ There’s this too, Kitty: while I am in the navy, if I 
get a home appointment, as I expect I shall in a few months, 
I shall want you to live on here with my mother.” 

^‘0 George!” 

Well, I can’t see any objection. There’s the lodger’s 
room, which, of course, you could take, and it would be 
much nicer for you than living alone, and a very pleasant 
arrangement all round.” 

But can’t I be with you? ” 

George’s face fiushed with pleasure. 

‘‘ I wish you could, darling. But be reasonable, Kitty. 
If you came with me, you would probably have to be alone 
most of the time, and I haven’t a notion of course where 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


317 


that would be. Then, we are rather pinched about money 
just at present. We spent a good deal in Malta somehow, 
without getting much for it. And you can stay here more 
cheaply than anywhere else, and do these dear people a 
good turn at the same time.” 

Very well, George,” said Christina, meekly. He had 
put his knife back in his pocket, and that at least was some- 
thing to be thankful for. 

‘‘ Of course there are your own people. But they haven’t 
been extra civil.” George proceeded to extract a toothpick 
from his waistcoat pocket. 

Christina jumped up. 

“ Well, there’s no hurry about all that,” she said, sharp- 
ly; and, George, if you consider the dining room the place 
to perform your toilet, I, for my part, prefer to sit in my 
bedroom! ” 

With which she walked majestically out of the room, 
leaving him completely astounded. 

She sat down wearily by the window in her bedroom. 
What was making her so childishly irritable? She had 
borne as much and more many a time and oft from George. 
Was she so mean, so selfish, as in her own pain to take a 
certain satisfaction in the pain of other people ? The words 
would get themselves said; Christina did not believe that 
by any effort of will she could have sat still and borne with 
George for five minutes longer. 

The stab of pain she had felt on seeing McLeod’s name 
had turned to the irritable unhappiness of the past weeks. 
McLeod’s place was filled, and it seemed so soon. 

McFerran, if he was not glad — Christina was sure he 
would not be glad — must at least, as the poorest man in the 
regiment, feel that he had profited. Somebody else would 
ride McLeod’s ponies, live in his rooms, take his place at 
mess, and march in front of his company at parade. It was 
inevitable, natural, desirable — nobody could wish for any- 
thing else, least of all McLeod himself. 

She was conscious that her vague irritation against all 
the world culminated when she thought of George. She 
would have liked to face him and startle him out of his 
complacent composure with the story of the thing she had 
done. She would have liked to go and tell him that but 
21 


318 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


for her McLeod might have got well. That was the thought 
that haunted her always, and would not be shaken off. 

Never, never would she he free from George now unless 
she cut herself free. There was no refuge for her from 
him — no escape if at this moment he came to her, as he 
might do, to ask why she had left him so abruptly. 

But it mattered very little; there was nothing that 
made any particular difference, or that was really worth 
struggling about. 

It had taken a good deal of physical and mental suf- 
fering to bring Christina even to thinh that she thought this. 

For his part, George was quite startled and disturbed 
enough without any such revelation as she might have 
made. 

He was angry, he was uneasy; he realized that Chris- 
tina was not in the last like herself, while he was quite at 
a loss as to what was wrong, beyond feeling a vague sus- 
picion of McLeod’s memory. 

Jealousy did not come naturally to George; he had too 
satisfactory an estimation of himself, and, to do him jus- 
tice, too honest a faith in Christina as his wife. Now, in 
the midst of his admiring family and friends, only the 
vaguest remembrance of his discomfort at Malta came to 
him — a dim consciousness that at one time he had almost 
found reason to doubt his infalliability in her eyes. 

But he was disturbed and uncomfortable, and, not being 
reticent, his discomfort found half expression to his mother 
that evening. 

He had great faith in his mother: if it were possible 
to bring what was wrong right, she would do it; if there 
was any way out of a difficulty, she would find it. 

I am rather worried about Kitty,” he said; I don’t 
think she can be well, mother. She has been so awfully 
easily put out lately. She was very sharp to Kate at tea.” 

I don’t think she meant it,” said Mrs. Stoddart, and 
I am sure Kate wasn’t offended. She does look very white.” 

She never has much colour. But — but I am worried 
about her altogether. She hardly seems glad to be with 
me, or I don’t know what is wrong.” 

I think, George,” said Mrs. Stoddart, gently, that 
there is only a little patience wanted, and that then it will 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


319 


all come right. I think, my boy, she needs you to be very, 
very patient with her just now.’’ 

Then George understood, and once again, and this time 
with a heart full of rejoicing, he called himself a brute. 


CHAPTER XII. 

It was not a little Christina’s own fault that her life 
with the Stoddarts did not flow entirely smoothly. She 
was giving way to an introspective, morbid wretchedness, 
which made her irritable as well as unhappy. 

If she could have pulled herself together, and made up 
her mind to shut her eyes and ears to some things, she could 
have found much in the people she met to interest her. 
They were for the most part intelligent business people, 
some of them very well educated, and most of them inter- 
esting in their different ways. But Christina in her present 
mood only knew that their loud voices and their accents 
and their manners grated upon her nerves. 

Once, within a few weeks of her return to England, 
there came a letter from her mother, inviting her and 
George to town, or to Scotland in the autumn if they pre- 
ferred it; and she, knowing that George had a certain 
yearning for social elevation which would have made him 
willing to overlook much previous coolness, said nothing 
to him when she refused. Xot that, at least; not now, and 
not with George, could she bear to go to her old home. 

But nevertheless she made no attempt to be happy 
where she was. 

Mrs. Stoddart, knowing that there was something 
wrong, would gladly have done her best to help, but Chris- 
tina half unconsciously held her at a distance. Maggie 
was good-natured and friendly, and all, except perhaps 
Kate, did their best to make the days pass pleasantly. 
Kate was jealous of Christina, while at the same time she 
gave her an unwilling admiration, which drove her to secret 
imitation of her sister-in-law’s clothes and voice and man- 


320 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


ner of speaking and walking. Poor Kate had had niany 
aspirations and dreams. She had many a time imagined 
herself exalted into another and a higher sphere where 
shops were unheard of, and lords and ladies were to he 
daily met. 

Kate felt that given the chance she would have been 
quick to learn, and would soon have been able to hold her 
own with the best. And such things did happen; it was 
only necessary that some dashing officer or some fascinat- 
ing scion of nobility should happen to fall in love with her, 
and the thing was done. But, alas! to fall in love with 
her he must first meet her, and there was the difficulty, the 
cruel difficulty, which had rendered all poor Kate’s dreams 
futile. 

It was such a very small, grovelling little ambition, and 
yet it was not to be fulfilled. 

The Rev. Charles Smithson had been a come-down for 
the ideal, though he was an excellent match for the real 
Kate Stoddart; it was not without a struggle that the prac- 
tical side of her mind had conquered. 

Now it was over, and everything was once more rose- 
coloured, while the only reminiscence of her past dream 
was a certain jealousy of Christina, who had had all the ad- 
vantages that Kate had longed for, and then had married 
— George! Fond as she was of her brother, Kate did not 
understand how she could have done that. 

To do Kate jiistice, she would not now have exchanged 
the Rev. Charles, with his oily hair and his two dead wives, 
for the smartest officer in the regiments which often 
marched past the shop. 

Christina sometimes saw her eyes light up when he 
came in, and realized with unreasonable surprise that these 
horrid people really were fond of each other. 

And everybody liked George. Among all these girls she 
met he might have got many a wife, who would have made 
him perfectly happy and adored him. 

Though he was devoted to her, Christina did not think 
that she was making him happy; it would perhaps he better 
for him if she was dead, and he was free to marry some one 
who would care for him and would suit him better. 

She was not herself. Had she been more physically 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


321 


strong, she would at least have made an effort to shake off 
the overwhelming depression which increased every day. 

She missed McLeod so dreadfully, and she missed the 
interest in life which he had given her. 

Days and weeks and months crept away without change. 

George was appointed to a ship in the Channel squadron, 
and Christina filled the lodger’s room in the Stoddarts’ 
house. 

She had not energy or desire to make a struggle for a 
home of her own, where she could at least have had freedom 
to a certain extent. 

She just let everything slide, and submitted, and lived 
on from one day to another. 

She had done scarcely a line of writing since her return 
to England. There was no possible privacy; her sisters- 
in-law were always in and out, and considered it their duty 
not to allow Christina to sit and mope by herself. 

And what was the good of bothering? 

She was restless; she walked more than she should have 
done, and repelled any special care or attention fiercely. 

She could not bear to drive. On the few occasions when 
it had been necessary she had been seized with a wild terror 
— the same terror that sometimes came to her in the dead 
of the night, and held her awake for hours, shuddering and 
unnerved. 

Week followed week, with only Mr. Smithson’s daily 
visits and George’s occasional returns to mark them. There 
was nothing to look forward to — no bright spot in the 
future. 

Her baby. Deep in Christina’s mind was the morbid 
belief that God would never allow her to have such a gift. 
The belief had taken an almost insane possession of her 
mind. She would die, or it would die. 

She was so entirely alone. Her secret nobody knew, 
and nobody should ever know. Each day it seemed to her 
a more unforgettable^ irremediable thing that she had done. 

Had she been again called upon to decide, she would 
have done the same thing, had she been sure it was 
best for McLeod. For him she had offended against the 
laws of God and man, she told herself, and had she done 
well even for him? Was she a wicked woman? Had she 


322 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


put into the hands of a madman the means of taking his 
own life? But Christina remembered the straightforward, 
steady look in his eyes, and knew she had not said good-hy 
to a madman. 

She would tell herself that what she had done was to 
release him from a lifetime of suffering, and that the re- 
sponsibility had been left with him, as a sane man; but 
such reminders were only words, and conveyed no meaning 
to her mind. 

Sometimes, in a mad impulse for confession, she would 
sit among the others with the very words upon her lips, 
and suddenly spring up and leave the room to keep them 
back. 

Once, twice, alone in her room, she found a strange 
kind of relief in writing down from beginning to end every- 
thing that had happened, and as often she hastily and fur- 
tively burned what she had written, raking the ashes over 
and over again in the fireplace, that she might be certain 
no line was left to betray her. 

She had been tempted many times by the thought of 
confessing it all to some priest of McLeod’s religion, but 
something — a hesitation over preliminaries, an unwilling- 
ness to put the thing into words, a fear that even the priest 
would turn from her when he heard — had kept her back. 

She was perhaps just then in a state not very far re- 
moved from madness herself. 

Had she loved McLeod — did she love him — as a woman 
loves the one man in the world for her? Christina did not 
know. She had had no affections in her life by which to 
judge what she felt for him. 

At least, in going out of her life, he had left behind 
him a blank which could never quite be filled up. 

It was only by living from day to day without once look- 
ing ahead that she could live at all, and every day, as she 
grew less able to go about and more condemned to the house 
and her own thoughts, endurance grew more difficult. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


323 


CHAPTER XIII. 

One February afternoon, Christina lay on the sofa in 
her room, feeling very weak and depressed. 

She had come to the stage of recovery when every morn- 
ing it is a weariness to wake to a fresh day, sure to be ex- 
actly like yesterday and to-morrow — a stage when each 
hour seems unending and everything is a trouble. 

The dark, short winter evening had closed in, but she 
lay in the dusk, too languid to get up and light her lamp 
or poke her dying fire. It was not worth-while; she did 
not feel any particular interest in her book, and she was 
tired of reading. 

It was very dismal, and she felt very miserable. Tears, 
half of vague self-pity and half of weakness, welled into 
her eyes. 

The door opened, and Kate Stoddart came noisily in and 
Christina looked up, with a peevish exclamation. 

Gracious, Kitty! What on earth are you doing in 
the dark? ” the girl said. “ I have a tea tray in my hand 
for you, but I am afraid to move.’’ 

Christina rose wearily and lighted the lamp, and Kate 
came over to put down her tea tray by the sofa. 

She was full of health and happiness; the world was 
going excellently well for her, and she was in the full ex- 
citement of preparing for her marriage, which was fixed 
for the next month. It was in her nature to tramp heavily 
and set down cups with a clatter, and slje would have 
laughed at the idea of its being a real annoyance to Chris- 
tina that she could never bring her her tea without spilling 
some on the tray. 

We have had such an afternoon! ” said Kate. Moth- 
er and I have chosen all my stockings and shoes, and such 

a business as it was! And then we met Charles Kate 

caught a lack of interest in Christina’s face, and paused in 
what she was saying. 

Kitty, you really ought to come out for a drive,” she 
began again, in a different tone. I can’t imagine why you 
won’t.” 

I don’t care to, thank you.” 


324 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Kate was a little discouraged; she began to pour out tea, 
and tried to think of something to say which would in- 
terest Christina. But when Charles was unsuccessful, what 
hope was there? 

Christina broke the silence, hut not very pleasantly. 

I do wish, Kate, if you want to copy my hats, you 
would tell me so, and I would be very glad to help you. 
You have just spoilt that one.’^ 

Kate coloured. 

Charles liked it,” she said, with some hesitation; she 
knew herself it was not a success. And I didn’t mean it 
for a copy of yojirs — at least I didn’t mean it to be like.” 

I wouldn’t mind ‘your copying if you didn’t carica- 
ture,” said Christina, pettishly. Get out my gray hat, 
Kate — it’s in the top part of the wardrobe. You can have 
it if it suits you.” 

She felt she was ungracious in her words. Kate’s ways 
and manners all irritated her, and sharp words seemedi to 
come so much more easily than kind ones of late. She tried 
to make up by a special kindness in deeds to this sister-in- 
law, but though Kate, with her limited wardrobe, did not 
refuse, it was not the same thing. 

She would have liked to say no to the gray hat, if she 
had not been forced to see how very different it looked to 
her attempted imitation, and Kate loved finery with all her 
heart. 

She had not strength of mind for a refusal after she had 
gone to the glass, and seen the hat on the top of her brown 
frizzled hair. 

Having accepted her gift, she did her best to be friendly 
and genial to her sister-in-law in return. 

Kitty, you really ought to try and get out a little. 
You will never get stronger if you stay in here.” 

How can I go out ? The pavements would tire me.” 

^^Well, you might at least have people in to see you.” 

There’s nobody I care to see, thank you,” said Chris- 
tina, wearily. 

Kate hesitated. Would you care to see Charles? ” she 
said, colouring again. 

“Great Scott! See whof’^ said Christina, in astonish- 
ment. 


MgLEOD of the CAMERONS. 


325 


I mean — I mean — even as a clergyman. Yon might 
find him a comfort.’^ 

Christina felt she was rnde and ungracious; the girl 
was offering of her best. 

Thank you, Kate; it is very good of you/’ she said, 
gently, but I don’t feel up to it.” 

But clergymen are different from other men,” Kate 
persisted, encouraged by her manner. Charles is so good. 
He has known so much sorrow.” 

But I haven’t got a sorrow in the world, have I?” 
said Christina, bitterly — “ a devoted husband, a delightful 
child ” 

I don’t think you ought to have,” said Kate, dubi- 
ously; Christina’s intense depression puzzled her not a lit- 
tle; but you have been sent weakness and weariness for 
the time, of course, and Charles will teach you how all 
things work together for good.” 

‘‘Could he, indeed?” said Christina. “Well, I think 
I could tell him about something he would be puzzled to 
find any good in.” 

“ That’s just it,” said Kate, eagerly; “ we don’t under- 
stand. Charles told me this morning that he had thought 
God had afflicted him sorely in taking away from him two 
wives; but now he saw that all the time he had only been 
working for his greater happiness in giving him one far 
more precious and better loved,” Kate ended, softly. 

There was nothing ludicrous to her in the idea that 
Heaven should have expended so much trouble and made so 
many failures in trying to find a suitable wife for the Rev. 
Charles Smithson. 

Christina in charity did not laugh. She said, soberly, 
“It is a bit hard on the wives, isn’t it?” and Kate was 
vaguely suspicious of her tone. She stared at Christina, a 
little puzzled. 

“ But Charles says,” she began again, and with a sigh 
Christina prepared "^to listen to further eulogies. But 
George’s entrance freed her. 

George was not at his best. He had one of his extremely 
objectionable colds in the head, and he was coughing and 
sneezing with an unpleasing frequency, but at least he was 
safe not to inflict second-hand sermons upon her. 


326 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


''Well, KiV’ lie said, "you look snug. Where’s the 
kid?’^ 

That was always his first question. 

" It was asleep when I last heard of it,’^ said Christina; 
" go and see if it is awake, if you like.’’ 

" And I’ll bring him in here. You want cheering up,- 
old child, and you ought to have the boy to keep you com- 
pany all afternoon.” 

With which he went off cheerfully for his son. 

It was a wonderful baby in his eyes — the most remark- 
able and fascinating child in existence. George could safely 
be intrusted with it; he was indeed almost qualified to take 
entire charge of it, down to making its food and giving it 
its hath. 

It was a small baby, with the usual bald head and readi- 
ness to tears. 

Christina was disappointed in it, or rather in her feelings 
towards it. As she grew stronger, she was beginning to 
shake off her first fixed belief that the child would die — or 
go mad._ That punishment, which would include George 
and the child itself, would surely be unjust. 

She had hoped and longed that, if the child were to 
live, it might be a girl, and so more her own. This 
baby, this bo}^, seemed to her almost absurdly like its 
father. 

She even fancied she discovered a certain bumptiousness, 
about its ways. It would grow up a worthy, eminently re- 
spectable, completely uninteresting and second-rate young 
man. 

"Here he is, mamma!” said George, triumphantly. 
" Let us see, does he know you.” 

"Know me!” said Christina, peevishly. "What non- 
sense, George! Don’t bring him over here, please. I am 
too tired to take him.” 

George looked very slightly disappointed. 

" All right, Kitty; he’s a good weight, really. You 
mustn’t bother mamma, young man.” 

" Don’t be so ridiculous,” said Christina, fretfully. 

" You would think George vras the child’s mother,” said 
Kate, with much want of tact. " Now, baby. Aunt Kate 
is going to catch you! ” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 327 

Whereupon George ran round the room with an exceed- 
ingly bewildered baby, and Kate ran after them. 

Christina lay still and endured, even when George 
knocked over a chair in his wild career, with a crash which 
shook the little room. 

She was relieved when he was seized with a sudden fit 
of sneezing, which made him pause, and put the finish- 
ing touch to the baby’s gradual increasing terror and 
disgust. It was carried off to its nurse by Kate, roaring 
lustily. 

When George sneezed, he did so heartily and without re- 
straint, and also for a considerable time. 

In the middle of a paroxysm he suddenly remembered 
that he had a letter in his pocket for Christina, which he 
had forgotten in the delights of his son’s society. 

From your mother, dear, I think, isn’t it? ” he said. 

Christina took the letter without misgiving. 

She had heard many times from her mother during the 
autumn, and the breach between them seemed to he super- 
ficially healed. 

“Dearest CsRiSTmA: I suppose there is a possible 
hotel somewhere near you, where 1 could stay for the night? 
I am thinking of coming to pay you a visit next week, as 
you won’t come to us; and if I come, I expect your father 
will insist on coming, too, especially as he is anxious to see 
his grandson. I must say I think it is your place to come 
to us. However, I have some natural affection, if you have 
not. I will wire when I have made up my mind. Your 
father I hardly see at present from morning to night. As 
usual, he is grumbling about money matters. I am af- 
flicted with the dullest set of people in the house you can 
imagine. Old Lady St. Ives is waiting to pounce upon me 
when I stop writing. You may he quite sure I didn’t ask 
her, hut she wrote and coolly proposed herself, and your 
father wouldn’t let me say no. Have you heard that Eileen 
Grant is going to be married — at last? ” 

And so on. Christina just glanced over the end of the 
letter. The beginning had given her quite enough to think 
about. 


328 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Of all things this was the worst — worse, far worse than 
if she had brought herself to pay the dreaded visit with 
George. 

Could this thing not he prevented? 

George came and read the letter over her shoulder, 
after a habit of his which always irritated her to the verge 
of endurance. 

He, too, had a moment of dismay, but excitement fol- 
lowed it quickly. 

“Kitty! Good heavens! Your mother! Well, upon 
my word, I am very glad. It is quite the right thing, after 
the way they behaved. It’s a sort of apology, don’t you 
see? But ” , 

“That’s just it!” said Christina, impatiently: 
“ hut ” 

“ This is a very small place to receive them,” said 
George, a little dashed; but almost immediately his spirits 
rose. Lord Frederick, in the days when George had met 
him, had been by no means an alarming or particular 
person. 

And what a sensation the visit w^ould create among all 
the Stoddarts’ Manchester friends! 

“ It’s quite the right thing and the civil thing,” he re- 
peated, wdth satisfaction. 

Then another view of the subject struck him. 

“And there’s the boy! That’s it,- Kitty; I’ve hit the 
right nail on the head now! It’s the boy that is bringing 
them. By Jove! I suppose everything will go to him — 
the place — eh, old woman ? ” 

“ I am sure I don’t know,” said Christina, sharply. 

Why should she be ashamed to let her father and mother 
know the life she had chosen for herself? But she was — 
she was ashamed, bitterly ashamed of the Stoddarts and 
all connected with them. If she had loved George it would 
have been so different. There w'ere plenty of men, she told 
herself, plenty of day-labourers, of whom a woman need 
never be ashamed. But George — what was he to show as 
the reason for the abandonment of her class and of all out- 
side luxuries? 

“ We must have everything very nice,” George went on, 
with excitement. “ The girls shall have new dresses, and 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


329 


if your people dine with us we can get a man to wait;, 

and ’’ 

Don’t be absurd! ” 

What possible difference could any petty change of the 
kind make? George was ashamed of the surroundings; 
Christina was ashamed of the people themselves. 

He was somewhat crestfallen. 

Well, look here, Kitty,” he said, in a half-ashamed 
tone, “if I thought it wouldn’t vex the mother — do you 
think it would be well for us to take better rooms for the 
time ? ” 

“Ko, no, no!” said Christina, vehemently; “if they 
must come — if they must — they must Just come here! ” 

“ Very well, dear, very well,” said George, a little grati- 
fied on the whole; “ but we will have everything very nice. 
And I must get rid of my cold, and get a few days’ extra 
leave. We must think of the boy, Kitty. I must say I am 
very glad. It will cheer you up, old child. Now I must go 
down and tell the girls. Holy Moses! won’t they be in a 
state of excitement! ” 

Hardly more excited and exhilarated was it possible for 
them to be than was George himself. 

He was full of gratification and excitement and im- 
portance. 

In his excitement he left the door half open behind 
him, and Christina could hear him inform the little maid of 
all work when he met her on the stairs that she must be 
very particular over her work, and have some clean caps 
and aprons for next week, for Lord and Lady Frederick 
Lorrimer were coming upon a visit. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

George got a great deal of satisfaction out of the Lor- 
rimers’ prospective visit. It was so easy to let slip in casual 
conversation that they expected Lord and Lady Frederick 
Lorrimer, his wife’s people, next week. 


330 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Christina, in her own room, was spared much of this. 

The Stoddarts, as a family, were perturbed by the pros- 
pect of this great event. The house in general underwent 
an even more anxious furbishing up than before Christina’s 
arrival, as though the Lorrimers were expected to he con- 
sumed with a desire to inspect every hole and corner. Mag- 
gie and Kate nearly came to an unusual quarrel in a dis- 
cussion over the right way to address Lady Frederick. 

Christina herself would have given worlds that her 
mother at least should remain away. She found herself 
unconsciously looking at George and his family through 
her mother’s eyes. What would she say or do, and would 
Christina have to he ashamed of her, in her turn, for rude- 
ness? Her father had been very good-natured and friendly 
to George once, and was in no wise particular as to his 
friends; but would he he content to judge his daughter’s 
husband in the same easy-going way? * 

And then Christina said to herself, what did it matter? 
When she was so miserable, could anything make her more 
so? But she only said this; she knew very well that she 
felt each little worry and annoyance far more keenly than 
she would have felt it a year ago. 

Everything irritated her; she could not hear George 
to come near her or to touch her. When he came to ask 
her anxiously how she was, or to tuck the rug round her 
and kiss her as she lay on the sofa, it was almost more than 
she could endure. She had a perverse desire, not always 
conquered, to contradict everything he said — to want the 
window open when he thought it ought to he shut, and to 
sit up when he wished her to lie down. 

Some days she gave way to this irritability more than 
others, and astonished and hurt George by her tart re- 
plies to his most well-meant remarks and her obstinate con- 
tradiction of his wishes. 

She hurt him, too, by her carelessness of feeling towards 
the baby, which she sometimes found herself elaborately 
exaggerating. 

He could not understand, he had not the smallest clue, 
to what had changed her. 

Christina knew she was behaving very badly. She knew 
she ought to rouse herself and fight against this depression; 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


331 


she knew she ought to get up off her sofa, and begin to go 
about as usual. 

She knew, too, that George had done nothing to de- 
serve such a had return for his kindness, and that she was 
encouraging instead of struggling with her intense dislike 
to him; but the knowledge did not rouse her to any effort 
— it only disturbed and irritated her. 

She could not bear to rouse herself and take up life 
again; she could not bear to leave her room, and once more 
have to mix with the Stoddarts^ friends. 

Once, in a hurst of repentance after some very sharp 
words, she told George that she was sorry, that she knew 
she was behaving hatefully, and that she wished she was 
dead, for she did nothing hut make him and everybody else 
unhappy. But though he was very kind, and was hopeful 
for the moment, the next day it was just the same as ever. 

The thought of McLeod and of the irretrievable thing 
she had done was never out of Christina’s thoughts, and she 
had plenty of time to brood upon it. During that terrible 
drive, nearly a year ago, she had not had time to he fright- 
ened, hut the shock of th^t and of the next few days had 
been telling upon her ever since. 

Try as she might to keep them out of her mind, she 
found herself going over and over them again, day and 
night; and most often of all that scene which she had not 
seen, when McLeod by her means found death, till there 
was absolutely a vivid picture of what had happened in her 
mind. 

Perhaps the prospect of her mother’s visit came to some 
extent as a good thing to her. Even a disagreeable neces- 
sity for some sort of effort was better than none at all. She 
was necessarily a little roused from her morbid misery, and, 
though it was only to active unhappiness, it did her good. 

She made no effort to prepare for her mother; she 
left it all to chance. She could not turn the Stod- 
darts out of their own house, nor could she suggest to 
George that it would he better for him to keep out of sight; 
so as these things must be borne, nothing else mattered. 

There was a pleasing uncertainty about the Lorrimers’ 
arrival: a series of telegrams with varying information kept 
the Stoddarts at a stretch of anxiety. 


332 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


And when it did come off, the visit was in more ways 
than one a disappointment. 

About four o’clock on the eventful afternoon, Kate 
came rushing into Christina’s room to say a cab had driven 
up to the door with boxes. Was it possible, was it at all 
possible that Lady Frederick intended to stay with them? 
And if she did, what in the world was to be done, when 
they had even to put George out of the house for want of 
room. 

Christina reassured her sister-in-law; she was quite cer- 
tain her mother would not want to stay. 

Then wouldn’t Kitty see her in the parlour? If she 
would only change her mind about receiving her mother 
in her own room — the stair carpet and the carpet on the 
landing were so shabby. 

Well, if it must be up here! Kate rushed about the 
room, patting and pulling cushions and chairs into shape, 
and brushing away a litter of papers from the floor. 

George meanwhile was fussing mightily. He rushed to 
the glass to put his tie straight, and to assure himself that 
his hair was correctly divided; then he paid a flying visit 
to the nursery to see that the baby was properly arrayed 
to receive his grandmother; and then he hurried down 
stairs. 

Christina got up off the sofa, put away her book, and 
went slowly across her room to the landing outside, keep- 
ing up the figment that nothing mattered to her now. She 
could see and hear all that went on downstairs. 

George was in the hall by the time the maid had opened 
the door. 

He found himself confronted by a grandly dressed per- 
son, who for one moment of terrible possibility he had 
almost greeted as his mother-in-law. From this awful mis- 
take a second thought fortunately preserved him. 

Then, when the maid’s inquiries had been answered, 
Christina could hear her mother’s voice. 

We are very glad to see you, Lady Frederick, very 
glad,” said George, effusively, so effusively that Christina 
for a moment feared a filial embrace. 

Is Mrs. Stoddart ” 

Christina has been longing to see you,” said George. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


333 


I must introduce myself, I suppose, Lady Frederick. I 
am George.^^ 

Christina was glad she could not see her mother’s face 
when the announcement was made. She could interpret 
the tone of her “Indeed? How do you do?” quite well 
enough. 

Then followed an apology from George,, an apology 
which she had dreaded and warned him against, about the 
smallness of the house. 

Lady Frederick did not pay much attention to him. She 
declined to send away her cab, and left it and her maid to 
wait for her, and she and George came upstairs together, 
he talking a good deal. 

There was nothing very effusive about the meeting of 
mother and daughter. 

Lady Frederick said “ My dearest child! ” and took both 
Christina’s hands and kissed her affectionately. 

“ My dear girl, how frightfully ill you look! Go and 
put on your hat. I want to take you off to the hotel with 
me.” 

Lady Frederick did not look much older than her 
daughter. She wore a sailor hat and a coat and skirt, and, 
whether owing to art or Nature, her hair was entirely with- 
out sign of gray. 

She was tall and slight, with a figure rather like Chris- 
tina’s, and she moved well, and brought with her a rustle 
of silk petticoats and a faint suggestion of sweet-scented 
violets. 

Christina looked at her with admiring pleasure. 

George pressed forward. 

Won’t you give us the pleasure of your company at 
dinner. Lady Frederick? Christina and all of us will he 
dreadfully disappointed if you don’t. And I hope Lord 
Frederick is here? ” 

“ Thank you so much, Mr. Stoddart,” said Lady Fred- 
erick, sweetly; “ hut I hope to bring my daughter to the 
hotel with me.” 

Christina broke in hastily, in terror of some allusion to 
Christian names. 

“ But where is papa? ” 

“ He went straight to the hotel. Come, Christina, can’t 
22 


334 - 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


you take me to your room? Mr. Stoddart will excuse us? ” 
in polite dismissal. 

Christina felt she need not have been in the least anx- 
ious for George; Lady Frederick’s polite words were safe- 
guards for her meaning. 

Almost before the door of Christina’s room was shut, 
she turned to her daughter with a face of dismay. 

My dear child, this is too awful! You will excuse my 
saying it, but such a dreadful little room! ” 

Christina was on the defensive at once; whatever might 
be her private opinion of the Stoddarts, they and all that 
belonged to them were certain of a vigorous defence. 

When people are poor,” she said, that means small 
rooms. It is very good of you to have come, mamma.” 

“ I was determined to come,” said Lady Frederick, with 
noble firmness. I thought it my duty. But I own to 
you that I didn’t expect it to be so bad. I thought these 
sort of people were always rich. My dear child, all I want 
is to see the baby, and then you must put on your hat — I 
hope you don’t get your hats in Manchester? — and come 
with me to your father.” 

I have never been out ” Christina began, reluc- 

tantly. 

I don’t wonder. Who would go out for pleasure in 
a place like this. But I suppose you want to see your 
father. I managed to persuade him not to come here; for 
I knew if he did, he’d make some mistake — be too rude or 
too familiar, especially as there are girls. You mentioned 
sisters, I believe? ” 

Mamma,” said Christina, you must please remember 
that the people in this house have been very good to me, 
and that they are my relations.” 

My poor child, I am remembering it — don’t you see 
how careful I am to remember it? ” said Lady Frederick, 
in such a lugubrious tone that Christina could not help 
laughing, though she did not feel very merry. 

And I never saw such a wreck as you look, or anything 
so unbecoming to you as that tea-gown. Christina, if you 
will come up to town with me in May, I will give you some 
dresses — that is to say, if I can screw something out of your 
father in the meantime to keep madame in a good temper.” 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


335 


Christina shook her head dejectedly. 

Won^t the’ man let you go? ” 

I couldn’t possibly,” said Christina, very decidedly. 

Don’t let us talk about it, mamma; tell me about things 
at home. I want to hear about everything.” 

Downstairs, a warm discussion was going on in the Stod-- 
dart family as to what was to be done. 

Mrs. Stoddart’s advice, which was to do nothing, was at 
once overruled. 

Their economical souls were vexed by the waiting cab- 
man, and they were troubled about the grand person in the 
hall. Was she a companion, a friend, or a maid? Ought 
they to invite her into the drawing room or leave her 
in the hall, or — ^was it possible? — send her to the 
kitchen? 

In the fear of making some awful mistake, they left 
her where she was; they would have been glad to pretend 
that they knew not of her existence had they not been 
obliged to pass her or remain shut up in one room. 

Then Kate, as the boldest, volunteered to follow tea 
upstairs to Christina’s room. She was conscious of a new 
dress in which she looked her best, and she was curious. 
Besides, George, whose courage filled his family with ad- 
miration, promised to follow in a few minutes and sup- 
port her. 

The baby had been shown and removed. Christina and 
her mother were sitting on the sofa talking, with the first 
difiiculties of meeting over. 

Lady Frederick first saw Kate, as she stood rather shyly 
by the door, and made a mistake, which Christina, perhaps 
unjustly, believed to be purposely made. 

Christina,” she said, here’s your maid.” 

Poor Kate flushed a vivid crimson. Christina feared 
for the moment that there would be some kind of passion- 
ate outbreak, and she turned upon her mother with a sharp 
and indignant explanation. 

To Kate she was suddenly affectionate for the first time 
in their acquaintance. 

This is my sister Kate. Kate dear, will you make 
tea? ” 

Lady Frederick rose. 


336 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Thank you very much, Miss Stoddart, hut I am afraid 
we canT wait.’^ 

Oh, please do, mamma,’’ said Christina, firmly. “ I 
want some tea awfully before I go out.” 

Lady Frederick yielded with good grace. 

George appeared a few minutes later, full of civilities. 

“ I hope you will come back to dinner, and bring Lord 
Frederick.” 

Lady Frederick gave him a charming smile. 

“ Thank you immensely, no. We couldn’t think of in- 
dicting ourselves upon you.” 

^‘It is not the slightest trouble — ^is it, Kitty? is it, 
Kate? ” said George, a little surprised by the silence of his 
womenkind. It would he a pleasure to us all. Won’t 
you pay my mother a visit in the drawing room, and hear 
her say so, too ? ” 

“ Thank you; I am afraid we are too much hurried.” 

At least I hope you will allow me to escort you to your 
hotel,” George persisted, undauntedly. 

You are most kind, hut the cab is quite full already,” 
Lady Frederick replied, as amiably as ever. 

Then she complimented him on the baby, and, by way 
of assuring his absence until then, expressed a hope that he 
would call for Christina at their hotel, a little before eleven. 

George was charmed with his mother-in-law, though a 
little disappointed that he had not been asked to dine. 

But he saw them off with a radiant face, glad that this 
little pleasure had come in Christina’s way, and went back 
to his family full of Lady Frederick’s praises. 

He was a little surprised that Kate did not back him 
up, but the reason why he did not hear. It was not con- 
fided even to Charles. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


337 


CHAPTER XV. 

Christina had not believed that anything would make 
her feel cheerful; she was surprised to find herself that 
evening roused out of her depression, and with her troubles 
driven to the background of her mind. She almost felt as 
if everything — her marriage to George, her parting with 
McLeod — might have been only part of a had dream. 

Her mother was very kind and her father was affection- 
ate. They said nothing against George or his people — 
barely mentioned them, in fact, and for the most part 
treated Christina as if the Stoddarts had not existed. 

They talked about the people, the things, and the hooks 
that she knew; the servants called her ^^miss,” and she 
felt herself borne back into the old life, which as a memory 
appeared so entirely delightful. 

George’s arrival to take her home came as a shock, and 
somehow he seemed worse, more vulgar, more self-com- 
placent than when she had parted with him a few hours 
before. 

How could she ever have seen him and her father to- 
gether without realizing the difference? She wondered at 
herself of four years ago. 

George in the cab as they drove home had plenty to say. 

I hope you enjoyed yoursdf, old child. Your mother 
was very pleasant. She seems to have put Kate’s hack up 
somehow; hut she was very civil to me, wasn’t she? Did 
she say anything about the hoy, or did your father give any 
hint? ” 

Christina shook her head. 

Well, Kitty, I’ve had an offer since I saw you.” 

So have I,” said Christina. 

^^Have you? As good an offer as mine, I wonder — I 
doubt it.” Christina began to see that George was excited. 

You remember what I told you about George Sand- 
ford’s mills? Well, he’s made me the offer I told you about. 
He wants a trustworthy man to manage and oversee his 
machinery, and he has offered me the post. Isn’t that a 
bit of good news, eh? ” 

Christina showed plenty of interest now. 


338 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


George, that means — does it mean to leave the navy ? ” 
Of course it does, and I shall he sorry to say good-by to 
the service. But it isn’t the thing for a married man. Now 
I have got a wife and a son, I want to stay at home with 
them.” 

“ To leave the navy,” Christina repeated, stupidly. 

“ Yes,” said George, a little disappointed; you are not 
so devoted to my blue coat as all that, are you, dear? 
Wouldn’t you rather have me always at home? ” 

It was well for him that he was obtuse and that Chris- 
tina’s stammered words of approval contented him. 

But, George,” she said, there is nothing to he done 
immediately, is there? Mr. Sandford doesn’t mean at 
once?” 

“ I don’t see much good in delay,” said George, a little 
surprised. “ I am going on a regular tour of inspection 
to-morrow round the mills, and after that I see no reason 
why we should not decide at once. And now you know my 
offer; what is yours? Something about the boy? ” 

Yours is quite enough to think about for one day,” 
said Christina, hastily. 

Her offer called for a decision she alone could make, a 
decision for which George’s news left very little time. 

Was she willing to give up George, practically if not 
absolutely, and to go hack to her old home and her old way 
of living? With George in the navy, and a foreign station 
before him in a year or two, this cutting free would have 
been very different and looked very diferent from what 
it would he if he retired. 

She said nothing about her offer, hut all evening she 
thought of nothing else. 

The house seemed to her gloomier and smaller and 
dirtier than ever as George and she came in, to find every- 
body else had gone to bed. 

Christina went to bed, too, hut she did not even try to 
sleep. 

If George did not leave the navy, it could all he so easily 
done. It could in some way he worked — surely it could — 
that he should always have foreign stations, and for the 
short times he was at home she would endure, gladly endure, 
for the sake of her freedom at other times. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 339 

There need not be an absolute break, though undoubt- 
edly she would have to give George pain. 

He would he hurt, but he would soon forget — very soon, 
and be happy enough. 

Men were all brutes — every one of them. When you 
were out of their sight, they forgot — forgot easily, and con- 
soled themselves — as George had done during the three 
years he had been without her. 

But to pursue this view of the subject did not lead to 
justification of the course Christina wanted to take, rather 
the reverse. 

She thought of the child; surely it would he the best 
thing for him. He would have a good education, he would 
he brought up among gentlemen, and the property would 
be his — that was part of the offer. 

Whereas, if he grew up in Manchester, among George’s 
friends, with a second-rate education, or even with the best 
in the world Do what she would, how could she ex- 

pect her infiuence to do everything, and in the end what 
would he his position? 

It would he unbearable — her whole life would he un- 
bearable. What a terrible, unendurable existence she must 
face if she refused the offer. There was her writing; she 
would he free to carry on that as she pleased if she were 
free from George. 

She would be free to live her own life, to he happy if 
she could, and forget if she could — at least she would he 
free. She would leave behind her this little room, these 
people, and, above all, George. 

Christina might have wavered for days had not the 
necessity for decision been before her. 

As it was, at breakfast next morning — the first break- 
fast she had had downstairs for many a long month — she 
came to a decision. 

It was all so horrid. George, in his joy at having her 
there, was more effusive than usual; the girls’ collars were 
soiled, and the little maid paddled about in slipshod shoes, 
with a smutty face and apron. 

The temptation to he free from all this was too strong 
for her. 

When George had gone out to the mills and Maggie 


340 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


was in the shop, Christina hastily put on her hat and coat. 
She would go to the station and tell her father and mother 
she had decided. 

All her dislike for going out was put aside now in this 
strong purpose. 

She stole nervously down the stairs, afraid of being 
caught or questioned, opened the door softly, and went out 
into the street. 


CHAPTER XYI. 

She hurried through the streets towards the station. 
She had not so entirely forgotten her nervousness as to 
be willing to drive if she could help it. Besides, she had 
plenty of time, and in her excitement she felt perfectly 
strong. 

She would not allow herself to think. She hurried on, 
driving back remembrance of George’s happy face that 
morning. 

She was going to forget George, McLeod, every one 
connected with this last year. 

Suddenly she raised her eyes, and found herself almost 
face to face with Campbell. 

There was no mistaking him — no mistaking his small, 
slight figure and freckled face. Christina had met him al- 
most daily in Malta, though she had never known him well. 

And now, he had dropped from the clouds to meet her 
in Market Place, Manchester. 

With an absurd instinct, she was half moved to turn 
and fly. She even wavered and swerved for a moment, as 
though to escape by crossing the street. 

But Campbell saw her, and sprang forward with her 
name. 

Mrs. Stoddart! ” 

Christina faced him breathlessly. 

She had not yet brought herself to the point of reason- 
ing that the meeting, which was almost tragic for her, might 
be to him essentially commonplace. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


341 


I have something to say to yon,” said Campbell. 

Christina felt herself growing white. 

Had he found out? Had he come to accuse her? 

I have a message for you,” said Campbell. 

A message? ” 

As they stood in the street passers-by jostled them, and 
to escape this they began quite unconsciously to walk on 
side by side, with odd pauses and stoppings. 

Christina had forgotten all about her people at the sta- 
tion, and she neither knew nor thought where she was 
going. 

Campbell on his part was obviously a little disturbed, 
and very much embarrassed. 

“ A message ? ” 

From McLeod,” he said. 

“ From McLeod? ” 

Her transfigured, wonderful look warned Campbell 
what he was doing. 

“ He gave it to me a year ago,” he said, in a low, hasty 
voice. 

Ah! ” The sudden light faded out of Christina’s face. 
It had been so impossible, and yet for one minute it had 
not seemed impossible, that McLeod should never have 
died; he had always seemed such an unlikely person to die. 

Campbell felt he had bungled over his mission. 

“ I am ashamed,” he said, of being a year late. But 
the fact of the matter is I put it off and oft at first, and then 
I lost your address. I knew it was Manchester, but nothing 
more, and though I thought of writing under cover to your 
husband — well, I didn’t.” 

Christina listened impatiently. Since delay there had 
been, what did the causes of delay matter to her? 

She did not trouble to speculate about Campbell or their 
meeting at all. 

You remember,” said he, that when you were leaving 
you asked me to take a parcel to McLeod. Ho you remem- . 
her?” 

What a mockery the question seemed! Had there been 
a day or an hour ever since when she had not remembered? 

“ Go on,” she said. 

went to see poor McLeod that afternoon,” said 


342 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


Campbell, ^^and — well, there had been a sort of coolness 
between us, I am sorry to say, but we made it all right. 
And then I gave him your parcel.” 

^^Yes?” 

A couple of George’s Manchester friends afterwards re- 
ported that Mrs. Stoddart had stared directly in their faces, 
and cut them dead. 

Christina would not have recognised George himself 
just then. 

She and Campbell were in a little world of their own. 

Bones was awfully upset about it,” Campbell said, 
unconsciously relapsing into regimental language; he 
began to call himself a damned brute — I beg your pardon 
— and said he had behaved to you like a selfish scoun- 
drel. And all the time he held on like grim death to your 
parcel.” 

Go on.” 

^‘1 knew it was all rot his talking of behaving like a 
brute to any woman, and I am just telling you what the 
poor fellow said for what it is worth ” 

Oh, do go on! ” said Christina, desperately. 

Campbell did not know exactly what point Mrs. Stod- 
dart wished him to come to. 

But when I was going away, he suddenly handed me 
back the parcel, just as it was, and told me to take it away. 
I tried to persuade him it was nonsense, and that he ought 
to keep it ” 

^^You did that?” 

But he began to get excited. I must take it at once, 
and I must find you and give it back to you. I was to tell 
you he was full of thankfulness, and to ask you to forgive 
his selfishness, and say he wasn’t such an utter brute, when 
he came to think, as to sacrifice you to save himself. Some- 
thing like that he talked, poor fellow, whatever queer crook 
he had got in his brain. I had to promise to do what he 
wanted.” 

“ You took it away? ” said Christina, in a hoarse voice, 
not like her own. 

There was nothing else to do,” said Campbell, in tones 
of apology. 

Then he suddenly started forward, afraid that Mrs. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


343 


Stoddart was going to faint. But she recovered herself in 
a moment. 

“ You took it away — you are sure — sure? ’’ 

Quite sure.^^ 

But you never brought it to me? 

I didn’t think there was much reason for hurry. I 
called in at the club, and — when I got to the Quarantine 
Harbour — the ship was Just going out.” 

“My God!” said Christina. How much Campbell 
might have spared her! What days and nights of misery! 
That delay of his had been a frightful cruelty. 

“ But did he never ask? ” 

Campbell was beginning to see that he had made a mis- 
take somewhere. 

“ I told him,” he said — “ I told him it was all right. 
What else could I do, poor chap ? I thought it was all some 
mad fancy. I am afraid, Mrs. Stoddart, I have somehow 
done more wrong than I know.” 

“ He was as sane as you or I, Just then,” said Christina. 
“ I am glad he did it — oh, thank God he did it, for his sake 
as well as mine! ” 

Campbell found a difficulty in knowing what to say. 
He could apologize for his carelessness, but there was 
evidently much more in the whole affair than he under- 
stood. 

Christina suddenly turned upon him. 

“ If it is all true what you have said, how does it come 
that he is dead? ” she said. 

Neither of them took in the full significance of her 
words Just at first. 

Campbell answered simply. 

“ It was on the voyage home. They watched him, of 
course; he had two men looking after him. But, how- 
ever it happened, one evening after they had passed Gib., 
he — went overboard! ” 

“ He always said it would be the sea,” said Christina, 
softly. 

They walked on in silence. Christina as yet hardly 
realized the full relief of the weight of a man’s death lifted 
off her shoulders. 

The gladness of finding McLeod’s memory without 


344 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


shade of selfishness was filling her mind, driving out all 
other thoughts. 

You might have saved me from a year of — hell! ’’ she 
said to Campbell. 

It seemed natural, and of the usual organization of 
things on this exceptional day, that to Campbell, whom 
she knew slightly, and with whom she had never exchanged 
more than the veriest small talk of society, it should be 
quite simple and easy to make the confidence she had once 
thought never to make to any one. 

Do you know what I thought I had done? I thought 
I had killed him,” she said. 

The words came so easily now. She could explain it 
all to Campbell, bringing him, as it were, every step of the 
way with her, teaching him all that McLeod had suffered 
and all the suffering he had seen before him, and then, 
without a pause, she told him what she had promised to do, 
and what she had done. 

That day she and Campbell seemed absolutely the only 
two people in the world to be considered, and she felt sure 
he would understand. 

Campbell understood. He was drawn and influenced 
by her mood and by the memory of his hero. 

For these few hours these two, who had been strangers 
until now, and would be strangers a few hours hence, 
were drawn into a very odd and very close understand- 
ing. 

I am sorry for you,” he said, if I had only known! ” 

If you had known,” said Christina, “ would you have 
carried my parcel? ” 

I hope so,” said Campbell, colouring to the roots of 
his fair hair. 

If you had,” said Christina, passionately, it would 
have haunted you night and day afterwards; it would have 
been something you could never forget — something that 
would never let you forget or be like other people for a 
moment.” 

McLeod knew that,” said Campbell. 

They had come in their wandering to a kind of people’s 
park, and by a common impulse they went in and sat down 
together on a deserted bench. It was not perhaps the wisest 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 34^ 

proceeding on a winter day, bnt neither of them was in a 
mood to feel the cold. 

Don^t you wonder,” said Camphell' how he ever had 
the pluck — how he could bring himself to live on among 
other people with that over him? ” 

“ Yes,” said Christina, “ and what the use of it was.” 

He would have said, ^ Go straight as far as you can 
see, and don’t bother about what you can’t understand,’ ” 
said Campbell; there was plenty of use in McLeod’s life, 
anyway. I couldn’t tell you all he has done for the regi- 
ment. If I speak for myself, Mrs. Stoddart ” — Campbell 
coloured, and began to make rings in the dust with his 
stick, but he went on nevertheless — “ I was going pretty 
well to the devil last winter, and letting everything slide. 
McLeod knew I was in a hole all round, and had no prospect 
of getting out of it, and he left me money enough to clear 
me at Malta and at home. So I had a fresh chance, and 
when I got an opening to change everything, I took it. I 
am honestly doing my level best to pull up.” 

“ I am so glad,” said Christina. 

She remembered how McLeod had liked Campbell, and 
how he had tried and failed to keep him straight. 

I don’t know how it will all end,” said Campbell; it’s 
not easy to pull up when a fellow has made such a fool and 
a beast of himself as I have. It was an awful wrench leav- 
ing the regiment, but I saw well enough it v^as the only 
chance for a fellow who has as little pluck as I have. I 
have an uncle in the city, and he’s given me a chance. I’ve 
been here on business this last week, and I’ve often 
wondered about you. But if I’d known, I’d have gone 
through every street and knocked at every door till I found 
you.” 

“ And so you’ve left the army,” said Christina, a little 
regretfully. 

Yes; anyway, Beresford and McLeod, the best of the 
regiment, were gone. McFerran has turned into an aide- 
de-camp, and gone to Canada; Grant is in the Egyptian 
army; and Seton-Kerr has taken your flat, and is going to 
be married to Miss Ruskin-Boyd next month. It is all 
changed.” 

And they are all going to the opera, and dancing and 


346 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


riding just as they did last winter/’ said Christina, with a 
long sigh. Alter all, what does it matter what becomes 
of you or me? We are so very unimportant.” 

It does matter very much,” said Campbell, sturdily. 

They had come into the everyday world again, and he 
was beginning to want his lunch. 

They had said all they wanted to say. 

Christina began to feel a wish to be alone, to face her 
life from this new standpoint, with the new relief and cour- 
age Campbell had brought her. She felt as if she were 
gradually arousing from a black nightmare. 

She got up and held out her hand. 

Good-by,” she said. I don’t think you will ever 
know quite all this afternoon has done for me. But I want 
you to remember this: if you find it hard to keep your life 
straight, it isn’t only you; I have been letting every- 
thing slide, too. And it isn’t easy for me — ^it will never be 
easy.” 

I will think of that,” said Campbell. 

And thank God that you have got a second chance,” 
said Christina, passionately; so few men and women have 
— so bitterly few.” 


CHAPTER XYII. 

« Kitty! Where in the world have you been? What 
happened to you? ” 

George and Kate both rushed to the door to let her in. 
They had been absolutely anxious about her, since George 
had come home and found her room empty. 

Where had she gone to? What had become of her? 
Had she walked too far for her strength and fallen down 
fainting? 

George had succeeded in getting himself and the whole 
household into a state of considerable fuss. He would have 
gone in search of her long ago had he known in what di- 
rection to go. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


347 


Now she came into the house, tired indeed, hut with 
the dull stupefied look gone from her face, with flushed 
cheeks and shining eyes. 

Where have you been? ” said George. We were be- 
ginning to get regularly frightened about you, dear.” 

I have been out getting a very useful thing — an en- 
tirely fresh point of view,” said Christina, in her old bright 
voice. 

Then she ran upstairs to take off her hat; of late her 
movements had always been languid. 

How kind they all were, after their lights, and how un- 
grateful she had been — how selfish and effortless! Her old 
sense of justice was coming hack to her, her old power of 
seeing from the side of other people. 

Never, she realized, with suddenly wide-open eyes, never 
since the day when she had found that George had not 
been as absolutely true to her during the three years of their 
nominal marriage as she had thought, never had she hon- 
estly tried to face her life and make the best of it for him 
and herself. She had been kind at first, hut of late not 
even that. 

What right had she to expect that the world should he 
made for her, or that she should he happy, as if that were 
the most important thing — something which must he pur- 
chased at any price? 

But could she bear it? Could she face the years and 
years and years which might he before her — the little rubs 
and troubles which seemed so unendurable just because 
they were so small — the utter loneliness to which she would 
condemn herself? 

Christina in her own room, with McLeod’s memory 
clearly with her, made up her mind to try. 

This last day, this one more day she must have for her- 
self to bury all her hopes and expectations, and make up 
her mind to face a drab, second-best life. 

She was even more quiet and silent than usual, and kept 
much to her room. 

When George came to tell her that, if she approved, he 
was anxious definitely to accept his cousin’s offer and leave 
the navy, she only said quietly that she would he very glad 
if he did. 


348 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


It would be the best thing most undoubtedly, as these 
partings and meetings were the worst. She would neces- 
sarily grow used to George if he were always with her, where- 
as his returns would mean a fresh difficulty each time. 

She thought and considered all day, and by the next 
morning she was ready to speak. 

George,” she said, I want a long, private talk. Will 
you come to my room? I hear Sarah coming down, so I 
expect she has finished it.” 

“ Well, but old child, I suppose I caffit smoke there? ” 

“ I didffit know you hadn’t smoked,” said Christina. 

Will you come when you have finished, then? ” 

She had no intention of allowing him to smoke in her 
room; now that she had definitely decided to live with 
him, she must not make it unbearable by being too yielding. 

Either George’s politeness or his curiosity proved 
stronger than his desire to smoke, for he did not keep 
Christina waiting. She made him put a match to the fire, 
which had just been laid, and found him a comfortable 
chair. 

She herself preferred to stand before the fireplace. 

George was not altogether an unattractive-looking man 
when he was sitting down — when he was standing, there 
was always something too consequential about his attitude. 

Christina could not help noticing his sloping shoulders, 
and the bald patch 'which was beginning to come on the 
top of his head; but he was not otherwise badly made, and 
his face was pleasant enough. 

She stood before him like an arraigned prisoner, with 
nervously clasped hands. 

“ George,” she said, I want to begin by apologizing 
for all my horridness. My only excuse — and not much of 
a one — is that I have really not been well.” 

Of course, old child. Never mind all that,” said 
George, good-humouredly. 

She had been cross and disagreeable, but, as she said, 
she had not been well, and, if it was all over, why worry 
about it? He bore no malice. 

“ I hope very much,” said Christina, steadily, “ that you 
will forgive me. I am going to do better now, I hope.” 

It was really to satisfy her own conscience that she 


McLEOB OF THE CAMERONS. 


349 


spoke; she knew that George would never guess or under- 
stand what it cost her, and he did not know how much he 
had to forgive. 

Come and give me a kiss, little woman, and don’t he ^ 
morbid. People can’t help being cross when they are ill.” 

You always make excuses for me,” said Christina, with 
a faint smile. Then she began in a different voice. 

And now, George, I want to come to business. We 
have lived for a year on very little, and surely any small 
debts we had must he paid. I understand more about 
economy, and you will he making more money. Mightn’t 
we — I should like it so much — take a house of our own? ” 

George’s face fell a little. - 

A house of our own? ” he said; I am afraid, dear, 
the mother will he vexed.” 

I have thought about it,” said Christina, and I don’t 
think she will. But, in any case, we can’t go on living 
squashed up like this. George dear, I want a house of my 
very own, and servants of my very own, and nice rooms, 
and a big nursery for the baby.” 

George’s face brightened at the cheerfulness of her tone. 
Christina planned it all out for him. 

They would get out all their trunks, which were stored, 
and they would have Maltese screens and rugs and curtains 
in abundance to begin with. 

They might perhaps live a little way out of town; 
George liked walking, and on fine days Christina would 
go and meet him, and bring the hahy when he was a httle 
older. It would he just the place for Mrs. Stoddart to come 
and stay soiTietimes to he strengthened. 

They would have a garden, and all her life long to have 
a garden had been an unfulfilled dream of Mrs. Stoddart’s. 

They would have a dog, and perhaps after awhile a 
pony, and George could once again keep his canaries at 
home. 

They settled it all, even to the number of rooms they 
wished for, and an obligatory bow window for the drawing 
room. 

George became quite happy; he forgot his fear of hurt- 
ing his mother. 

Christina, as she herself mapped out their days, found 
28 


350 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


their future life brought with sharp clearness before her. 
Could she endure it? If she did, it must he by facing and 
hearing each day as it came — she must never look ahead. 

George, leaning back radiantly in his chair, thinking 
over their new home, was astonished at the abruptness and 
almost roughness with which she plunged into a new sub- 
ject. 

She had something more to say to him, the most diffi- 
cult thing of all; hut it must he decided and at once. 

Do you remember, George, when I first came out to 
Malta 

There was a long pause, so long that he believed she 
must have finished her sentence. 

“ Of course I do,’^ he said, laughing; do you think 
I have forgotten? 

Christina went on, with her eyes steadily fixed on the 
growing fire. 

I talked to you then about — my writing ” she 

said. 

George started and frowned. 

“Why, Kitty, I hoped you had forgotten all about 
that! 

“ I haven’t forgotten it,” said Christina. She stood ab- 
solutely still; she would not help on her cause by a caress. 

“ I never forget it. If you and I are to he happy, we 
must both give in. I canH give up this one thing.” 

George was perturbed and worried. Since Christina 
had never spoken of her writing, he had, judging her by 
himself, concluded that she had forgotten about it. 

“ But, Kitty, I don’t like it — I can’t say I like it.” 

“ I hope you will give in to me in this,” said Christina. 
“ I will try to he a good wife, hut in this, George, you must 
yield. I can’t give it up.” 

“ Kitty! ” 

“ I can’t. I will try not to write what you disapprove 
of, and no one need ever know — no one need even guess. 
But it is a condition, George. You must think it over and 
decide.” 

George was startled and alarmed. He saw Christina 
meant a good deal by her words. 

She realized that he understood. If she gave up every- 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


361 


thing else in her life to George, this was the one pleasure 
she intended to keep for herself. 

She must have something to think about — some outside 
interest. 

That evening she spoke to Mrs. Stoddart of the move 
she proposed, and to her relief found that her plan was en- 
tirely approved of. 

Her mother-in-law brightened up at once in answer to 
Christina’s changed manner; she had been very unhappy 
about her son, and the positioii of aloofness which her son’s 
wife had taken up. ^ 

I have been waiting for this,” she said; I often 
thought of it myself, but I wanted to leave it to you. It 
is much the best thing you can do.” 

Christina drew her chair close to Mrs. Stoddart, and 
turned her face away. 

“ I have been very rude and disagreeable,” she said; 
you must think George has a had wife; but I will try to 
be better — indeed, I will try.” 

Mrs. Stoddart’s look was a very kindly one. 

“ I knew it would come right,” she said, softly; as 
one grows older one understands so many things come right 
with a little patience.” 

Christina answered with a half caress of Mrs. Stoddart’s 
hand; it was not her way to express herself demonstra- 
tively. , 

My dear, I know you are a brave woman,” her mother- 
in-law said. It’s not easy for you. I don’t know that it 
will ever be easy. But you’ll remember George is an 
honest man and a good man, and you won’t bring up his 
son to look down upon him because of a little thing here 
and there? ” 

“ I will not,” said Christina. I will never forget he is 
his son as well as mine.” 

If George himself had only been like his mother! If 
there had been one point where he and Christina could meet 
and understand each other! But George did not even know 
that there was any want of understanding between them. 

In her room, before she went to bed that night, she 
wrote to her mother and told her how she had decided. 

But for the strange chance of her ^meeting with Camp- 


352 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


bell, it would have been for her to break to George the 
wrong she intended to do him. 

Whatever her life might be, Christina felt she was glad 
she had met him. 


CHAPTER XYIII. 

In her own room in her o^n house, Christina was sitting 
by the open window. 

She had drawn up her writing table close into the sum- 
mer breeze, a writing table in a state of methodical untidi- 
ness, which would have baffled any one but its owner. 

The baby was contentedly playing with a dog at her 
feet; he was a yellow-pated little person, with eyes like 
his mother’s and fat unsteady legs under his white frock. 
He had kept his first birthday four months ago, and could 
say many words. 

The dog was a fox terrier, and had reached an age of 
wisdom. He was a dog who had sorrowed much and truly 
for his master, but who, like human beings, had in time 
got over his sorrow, and his name was Jinks. 

Campbell had sent him to Christina, moved by some 
instinct he did not try to explain to himself. 

Had Jinks forgotten? If he had, when he and his mis- 
tress were alone together, why did he prick up his ears and 
whine with excitement at McLeod’s name? Many a time 
and oft had he followed a kilted soldier for. long hours, hop- 
ing against hope that he might lead him to his lost master. 
The distinction of facings and sporrans were beyond his 
comprehension. 

But he was happy enough now, having his ears and tail 
pulled as he rolled on the ground with Master Frederick 
George Stoddart. 

Christina had stopped writing, and was looking thought- 
fully out of the window when George came in. 

He had grown a little stouter and coarser in this last 
year, but, as she had hoped, their daily association had 
deadened her perception of the change. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


363 


He was excited, and waved a paper wildly in liis hand. 

‘^Here, Kitty! here’s another review; upon my word, 
the fellow who wrote it has some sense! Here, read it: ‘ A 
capital story, will written and well planned. The reader’s 
interest is roused in the first chapter, and goes on steadily 
increasing to the end, which is somewhat abrupt. While 
never descending to melodrama, the scene in which Alison 
yields to her husband’s entreaties for means of ending his 
frightful sufferings is painfully realistic.’ And then again: 
‘ Alison and her husband both actually live. However much 
her action may he reprobated, the reader can not hut feel 
that in her eyes it was entirely justified.’ And then at the 
end: ‘ We hope and expect to hear more of Mr. Chris, Lor- 
rimer.’ There, Kitty! Where’s the hook? I want to paste 
it in at once.” 

You are a goose! ” said Christina, laughing. I sup- 
pose that is out of some wonderful Post or Mercury or 
Herald, that we have never heard of before or never will 
again! You weren’t in such a hurry to paste the last review 
in that wonderful hook of yours.” 

Ko, and I am not going to put it in! A fool, who 
hadn’t read the story, and thought himself mighty clever! 
Such idiots as that oughtn’t to he allowed to make asses of 
themselves in print! ” said George, hotly indignant.' 

‘^My dear George, you always say that when the re- 
viewer doesn’t praise me,” said Christina. His growing en- 
thusiasm amused her very much; she could not help laugh- 
ing at it, though it pleased her. 

George was hunting through one of the table drawers, 
which was his especial property, and in which he kept a 
hook wherein he pasted all favourable criticisms of Chris- 
tina’s work, while all that were unfavourable were con- 
signed to the fire as the production of fools or people who 
had not read what they were discussing. 

Kitty,” he said, don’t you think we might just as 
well let people know now ? I don’t see much use in keeping 
it a secret. Wouldn’t they all be astonished? ” 

Why, George!” 

But George had almost forgotten that he had ever dis- 
approved of her writing, and it was better not to insist on 
his remembering. 


354 : 


McLEOD OP THE CAMERONS. 


It is most wonderful/’ he said; and it is so true what 
this other review says, that if it isn’t collaborated work, it 
is extraordinary how the same person can so thoroughly 
understand what a man feels and what a woman feels, too. 
By Jove! it made my flesh creep. And her feeling after she 
gave him the poison! How in the world do you do it, you 
clever little woman? ” 

Christina smiled rather sadly. 

She could not tell George how much a certain strange 
fragment of a play, sent by Campbell, had helped her. That 
was her secret, kept with a dead man. 

She had put all her soul into this story. It had meant 
much more to her than any of the rest, for she had written 
into it the very thoughts of her heart. 

NTo one would ever know that the sufferings of that 
man and that woman were the veriest literal truth. They 
were two real human beings to Christina, a sort of link be- 
tween her and McLeod. They were a part of herself, and 
yet they had distinct lives and individualities of their own; 
and to the woman, in her greater strength, Christina some- 
times felt herself turning, and trying to view the difficul- 
ties of her life through the eyes of Alison, who had given 
all for her great love. 

George fussed out of the room to look for paste, and the 
baby got up and supported himself for a few careful steps 
till he could grasp his mother’s dress. 

She put her arm round him and drew him close. 

Dear,” she said, “ I wonder what sort of a man you are 
going to grow up, with those honest eyes of yours. I should 
like you to he a man like some one your mother used to 
know.” 

Little Frederick stared solemnly in her face; he looked 
as if he understood, and was noting her words. 

Christina went on talking to him gravely. 

And if you have Yardon Park some day — but that is 
a subject your father is too fond of talking about, and 
I don’t intend it to he mentioned to you vmen you are 
a little older — however, my wise son, if you do ever have 
Yardon Park, I should like you best of all to be a soldier, 
and to go into the Cameron Highlanders.” 

Jinks pricked up his ears and whined. 


McLEOD OF THE CAMERONS. 


355 


The baby, who understood less, propounded a request 
for something good to eat, and his father, whose entrance 
had as usual suggested “ sweeties,” forthwith fulfilled his 
desires, unheeding a faint protest from Christina. 

Christina sat playing with her pen, wliile George read 
selected reviews to his offspring. 

He at least w^as happy. 

There were times when Christina half hoped, half feared 
that she, too, was growing content. But dark days came to 
her, w^hen she felt as if she must break free. 

Would she be able to live always as she had done through 
this long year? Was it in her nature to put herself and the 
possibilities of her life aside forever? Was it even well or 
right ? 

Christina looked across at George, and told herself, as 
she often told herself, that she could do it. 

There are twelve reviews, Kitty! ” he broke in, radi- 
antly; ‘‘ dear old child, it’s splendid — perfectly splendid! 
Come over and talk to me.” 

Christina put down her pen and went to his side. 


THE END. 


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their age. 

Our own time has furnished no better proofs of the poet’s illuminating 
and quickening power than Mr. Kipling’s splendid interpretation of colonial 
patriotism in “ The Native Born,” his apotheosis of the sea power in poems 
like “The Flag of England,” “The Bolivar,” and “The Camperdown,” 
and the imperial patriotism of his “ Song of the English.” Elsewhere we 
have the sonorous roll of “ The Last Chantey,” and the tinkle of the “ Seng 
of the Banjo.” The public have been prompt to feel the gprasp and swing 
of Mr. Kipling’s verse. He offers no veneered imitations of old French 
forms of love poetry, nor does he laboriously hammer agnostic prose spec- 
ulations into the form of verse. What he says is aiive. His utterances are 
vivid and spontaneous, and many a jaded reader has put up a thanksgiving 
for his fire and force. In this new book of verses the qualities which have 
distinguished the author are shown in a riper and fuller development than 
ever before, and for this reason, and also on account of his range of themes, 
it seems proper to invite special attention to the coming volume. 



RUDYARD KIPLING. 


New York : D, APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue. 


D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. 


T 


HE BEGINNERS OF A NATION A History 

of the Source and Rise of the Earliest English Settlements in 


America, with Special Reference to the Life and Character of 
the People. The first volume in A History of Life in the 
United States. By Edward Eggleston. Small 8vo. Cloth, 


gilt top, uncut, with Maps, $1.50. 


It is nearly seventeen years since the studies for this book were begun. 
In January, 1880, having decided to write a History of Life in the United 
States, Mr. Eggleston employed himself during convalescence in seeking 
books bearing on the subject on all the quays of Paris. From that begin- 
ning has grown the large and valuable collection of many thousand books 
relating to American history, and to social, industrial, and intellectual life 
generally in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, which fill the walls 
of a stone library building on Lake George. Mr. Eggleston has produced, 
in the years since that beginning was made, two novels and several school- 
books on American history, now widely used ; but eleven of the last seven- 
teen years have been wholly given up to investigations and studies which 
find their first permanent result in the present volume. Thirteen articles on 
Colonial Life were contributed to the Century Magazine by the author be- 
tween 1882 and 1889. They were recognized at once as authority on the 
subject, were quoted in learned works, were discussed by at least one scholar 
in a German periodical, were placed in class libraries in leading institutions 
of learning, and were cited by a well-known professor as “the only author- 
ity on colonial life to be depended on.” Mr. Eggleston was importuned to 
gather them into a book, but his project had grown with his knowledge of 
the subject, and he has given himself of late years to produce on an entirely 
new plan the first of a series of volumes, each to be complete in itself, which 
as a whole shall represent the life of the people of the United States in the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In order to do this, it has been neces- 
sary not only to prosecute studies in most of the great public libraries of this 
country, but also to make repeated sojourns in Europe for the purpose of 
investigations in the British Museum and the State Paper Department of the 
Record Office, and the French National Library. Mr. Eggleston gained 
access also to papers not before used in private repositories in England and 
America. To get local color and additional information, he has visited all 
of the original thirteen colonies. The first installment of this historical series 
is thus the ripe fruit of many years of tireless investigation. The book has 
been wrought out and thought out thoroughly, and the initial stage of United 
States history is presented here in a light strangely different from that to 
which readers of history have been accustomed. 


New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue. 






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